


that idea's not so wild

by praisesataan



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M, SOLELY for the monopoly jokes, but it is now!!!!!!!!, but please give this a shot, but pre whizzvin dating sorta, char and delia come eventually i promise, i actually rly like this, i hope you will too, i know nothing abt politics, i really don't think this is how you tag fics, i saw an opportunity and i took it, i'm using last name gardens, im not qualified to write this, look youll see ok, marvin runs for president, oh yeah also, political au!!, thanks folks, thats fine, this is post marvins divorce, yeah i don't know what to say
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:54:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 32,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25028056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/praisesataan/pseuds/praisesataan
Summary: Whizzer doesn't expect to run into the mayor of New York City at a gay bar. He certainly doesn't expect to help him during a presidential campaign, and he absolutely doesn't expect to get warped into Mayor Gardens' family.Sometimes, though, life doesn't go as planned.
Relationships: Dr. Charlotte/Cordelia (Falsettos), Trina/Mendel Weisenbachfeld, Whizzer Brown/Marvin
Comments: 154
Kudos: 115





	1. passion at all times

**Author's Note:**

> HIIIIIIIIIIIIIII
> 
> so this is!! a whole new fic!! i'm really excited for this and i hope you are too!!  
> i know just about nothing about politics, but I've been doing some research and hopefully it'll be great!! the time frame is from like April in one year to November in the next so... a large range, as you can see  
> oh also this is like. modern, so they can like text and stuff,,, ya know, cool hip 2000s tings
> 
> but yeah let me know your thoughts!! comments and kudos mean everything to me tysm ily
> 
> and please please please continue talking about Black lives matter! your voice is so important, especially now
> 
> ok tysm have a lovely day and night and life i love you ok enjooooyyy reading!!!

Whizzer often frequented clubs. Gay bars were where he spent enough of his time that it worried most of his friends, but he didn’t care — the dynamic a club brought was intoxicating. The dance floors, with people thrown on top of each other, the drunk flirting with the people around him, a drink in his hand, and a lone guy that looked like the mayor sitting at the bar.

Whizzer studied the man for a moment. Caught in the rush of movement with the dance, his glaze slid in and out of focus. As he stared, however, it became more and more apparent to him that the man sitting at the bar  _ was _ , in fact, the mayor of New York City.

And, as Whizzer does, he approaches Mayor Gardens. His thoughts are blurred from the wine, not enough to make him drunk, but enough to make him tipsy. Not enough to stop him using common sense completely, but enough to make him wildly irrational. Not enough to lean down and kiss the mayor, but certainly, enough to sit down next to him, discarding his now empty glass, and absolutely enough to flirt with him.

“Mayor Gardens! How very strange to find you at a gay bar!” Whizzer said, sitting on the barstool and glancing over at the man beside him, a man whose face the population of New York knew, with a snide smile on his face.

“I’m supposed to take a break,” said the mayor, not even sparing Whizzer a glance. His voice is barely loud enough for Whizzer to hear over the blaring club music. Barely. “I’m overworking myself, apparently.”

“Well, the entire city of New York might beg to disagree,” replied Whizzer cooly. “I believe I do owe it to them to say  _ fuck you _ , the only issue being I don’t find the idea of really fucking you unappealing.”

This got the shorter man’s attention. He looked up at Whizzer, his eyes a little unfocused, but not enough for him not to realize what was happening. Like Whizzer, he was tipsy — not so drunk he wouldn’t remember anything tomorrow, but not so sober that he gave a second thought to what he told the tall, handsome man on the barstool beside him. He studied Whizzer for mere moments, taking in the man, his tightly fitted clothing, the hint of chest visible through the undone buttons, the carefully styled hair. And then he spoke again, with more desperation than a sober man might have.

“So, you don’t find me the all-time shittiest mayor of New York?” he asked, a sort of childish pleading in his eyes.

Whizzer looked him full in the face, with every intention of saying  _ oh yeah I do _ , but something in the blue eyes stopped him. Some hint of the desperation, the need to know not everyone hated him, gutted Whizzer. And without being fully aware he was even saying it, Whizzer responded. “No, you’re not. I mean, that’s a New York trait — we always think the mayor is the worst guy on the planet. But you’re really not so bad. Your only problem is that you’re too afraid to change anything, which is an issue if the rumors are true and you’re planning a presidential campaign.”

And the newly dubbed  _ not so bad _ mayor just stared at Whizzer, staring at him with such  _ interest _ that it was almost alarming. After a moment of consideration on his part, the mayor spoke again. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“Absolutely,” replied Whizzer with a smirk. “Talking politics has never actually worked in getting me a drink before, I’m impressed, Mayor Gardens.”

“Marvin,” replied the blue-eyed boy to his left absentmindedly, calling over a bartender.

Whizzer got his drink and sipped on it absently while Marvin turned to him. When his full attention had, before, not been on the man alone, it was now — he stared at Whizzer as if he were some sort of lifeline, the childlike desperation that got the tall man talking more evident than ever.

“Can you elaborate?” Marvin asked, his eyes glued on Whizzer, like Whizzer was the only man on Earth.

“Well, I mean, I come here all the time, and I’ve tried a lot of different flirting methods, but politics never—“ Whizzer began, but Marvin spoke over him, an inspired sparkle in his eye now, too.

“Not the drink! The fear. What you said about me being afraid,” Marvin said quickly.

Whizzer took a sip of said drink, considering the man before him, pleading for his help. He looked at the  _ mayor _ of  _ New York City _ , who was coming to  _ him _ and who  _ paid _ for his drink. And then, maybe it was the alcohol talking, but Whizzer continued.

“I don’t know, you just… you’re so careful, not to change anything you’ve gotten too used to. You don’t make any big changes, and while some of that is okay, it’s getting excessive.” Whizzer sipped again, thinking before continuing. “And I mean, that’s all and well. It’s  _ good  _ to do that, to keep things the way they are. It’s clever. But it also doesn’t help the people who need it. You’ve grown up privileged as fuck, so things are easier for you — you don’t see the need for change because, right now, this is working in your favor. And I mean, if you’re running for president, what are you going to say?  _ Hi, I’m here to change not a single thing! _ As mayor, and as president, you’re supposed to make everyone’s lives easier, not just your own.”

Marvin nodded slowly, his head on his hand, taking in Whizzer’s words. After a moment of pause, Whizzer added on.

“You also don’t spend nearly enough time talking to people. You don’t know what they want because you never engage with them.”

“I am now,” Marvin replied, almost defensively.

Whizzer laughed, and Marvin stared again, taking in the sound. His eyes glittered with a sort of malice, and he replied with a playfully exhausted tone. “Yeah, but you’re at a gay bar and you’re tipsy. It doesn’t count.” He stopped for a moment, taking a sip in the pause. “You need to connect with people, not avoid them. You’re in charge of their well-being, and you need to hear them.”

Marvin considered the man for a moment. A man who he’d never met before, a  _ very _ handsome man, telling him exactly how to fix his political career. Maybe he’d have to take more breaks like this one. Maybe Whizzer would tell him to.

Whizzer took a large sip, studying Marvin carefully. He wasn’t sure how to judge the silence, and was also unsure whether or not to move back into flirting, the carefully executed glances and remarks that would almost definitely leave him in  _ someone’s  _ bed that night. But, then again, Whizzer was tipsy enough to disregard the status of the man before him. Certainly not sober enough to think twice. He opened his mouth, ready to make a move, but Marvin beat him to it.

“Okay, then connect with me,” said Marvin, his eyes fixed on Whizzer’s, who grinned. Whizzer, in reality, wasn’t sure if that was a flirt or a  _ help me not fuck up the country _ , but he took it as the former regardless.

“I’m  _ trying _ ! I’m not used to segueing into flirting from politics!” Whizzer defended automatically, laughing a little and finishing his drink.

“It’s a skill. You’ll get there eventually,” Marvin retorted easily, a grin on his face, a grin that seemed to light him up.

“Oh, I see,” replied Whizzer, shaking his head (although unable to repress a smile). “You’re trying to say you’re a better flirt than me.”

“Hmm, it’s difficult to say. I’d have to see more on your part,” said Marvin, edging closer to Whizzer.

Whizzer laughed again, saying simply, “I’d be happy to demonstrate,” before lip hit lip, and Whizzer found himself kissing the  _ mayor _ of New York City.

Except, right then, Whizzer could see it wasn’t the mayor he was talking to, it wasn’t the mayor who he was kissing and holding on to as if for dear life. It was  _ Marvin _ . And Whizzer could get into that.


	2. he did his best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trina is used to following at Marvin's heel. She isn't, however, used to him moving on.

Trina sits in a chair beside Marvin, not saying anything. She watches him, she sees him running his hand through his hair yet again, staring down at papers. What exactly the papers contained, she wasn’t sure - speeches, maybe, or papers to sign, or ideas to implement. Probably not the latter. Trina knew him well enough to know he didn’t have so many of those. Or maybe he did, but there was no way she could get him to use them.

She had been by Marvin’s side for just about seventeen years now. For twelve of them, married; four of them, dating; and one of them, divorced. She had seen the divorce coming, she had known that their marriage was faltering. Maybe not that he was gay, but that it was faltering. But she was still here, by his side, for Jason. She was here for  _ Jason _ , and certainly not because of any wavering feelings. Certainly not because she was  _ worried _ about him, because she was his ex-wife, and she had no business being worried about him.

Marvin had always been work-obsessed. Trina knew this, from his years and years of being New York’s mayor. Or, better yet, New York’s least favorite person. But, then again, it was hard to be the mayor and  _ not _ New York’s least favorite person. Marvin knew that, Trina knew that, and Jason knew that — politics weren’t easy. They certainly weren’t easy for the Marvin Gardens that Trina knew. Something she learned quickly from their relationship was that Marvin liked knowing people cared about him, but even more, he liked knowing people depended on him. That was probably what was so appealing about politics to the man in the first place — the idea that people  _ needed _ him. He learned pretty quickly that didn’t mean people liked him, but he could manage that. He thought.

But right now, Marvin didn’t appear to be thinking about it. He looked stressed, pouring over the papers assembled in front of him. Trina considered asking him about it, but decided against it. She knew better than to interrupt him right now.

Instead, she watched as he pulled out his phone, sending a text to a name she couldn't quite see. She watched with interest as he stared at the phone, playing with the pencil as he set it down, waiting for, Trina could only assume, a response. He studied the papers, considering for a while before the phone vibrated and Marvin jumped to check it. He jotted something down quickly upon receiving it, typing a quick message in return. Trina guessed he didn’t even realize she was here.

But Trina was used to that. Trina was used to her presence being, for the most part, ignored by Marvin. What she wasn’t used to was the texting, the person who sparked ideas into his mind, who made him smile when the phone vibrated with another text. No, Trina wasn’t used to Marvin having other contacts, and the prospect of it caused her curiosity to get the better of her as she spoke up.

“Who is that?” Trina asked when it looked like he was stuck. She braced herself for some attack when the brown eyes met the blue, but none came. Marvin was silent, as if considering what to say.

Eventually, Marvin responded carefully. “On the night when I went out… I just, there was a guy there. He had good ideas.” His words were calculated, very carefully phrased. Trina knew why, and she posed her next question without wanting to know the answer.

“Are you seeing each other?”

  
Marvin didn’t speak, letting an uncomfortable silence fall between them. The phone vibrated, and he glanced back at it before turning to face Trina. “I don’t know,” he replied honestly.

“Oh. Okay,” she said slowly. “That’s… that’s good. That you’re out there again.” And then it was silent again, the ringing reminder that  _ Marvin moved on _ in her mind as he checked the message, jotting something down on the paper.

Almost as if Trina weren’t even there. Almost as if his conversation with Trina had never happened, as if this new guy were more interesting than she could ever be. He probably was. He probably meant something to Marvin, and she couldn’t say the same for herself. Not anymore.

Trina and Marvin’s time was over. Rationally, she knew that. She knew that Marvin was  _ gay _ , for crying out loud, that he had every right to move on. So did she. And yet, the sting that still came with the information was jarring, was unexpected. It’d been a little over a year since their divorce, Trina should be surprised it took him this long to move on to begin with. Or maybe it hadn’t, maybe he’d had secret love affairs for months. She didn’t know. She wasn’t supposed to care.

Jason’s return downstairs was welcome, and it pulled Trina from her stupor. What does it matter, if Marvin has a boyfriend? Or, if he doesn’t know if he has a boyfriend? God, how couldn’t he know if he had a boyfriend?

And when her thirteen-year-old son walked in the room, Trina smiled like she hadn’t heard a thing. She smiled at her  _ son _ , she smiled as if she were happy and married to a straight husband who loved her and was absolutely positive he didn’t have a boyfriend. She smiled through lies, through her imagination, through what she wished could be true.

Jason sat down, and Jason talked to Marvin, and Jason got Marvin to cast aside his papers for a while. Jason got Marvin to put down his pencil, to put away his phone, to listen to stories from school. And Marvin talked to Jason, too, talked about the city and wherever work had brought him. He talked about therapy, therapy Trina was more and more convinced she should be making Jason attend, and he talked about his ideas. He didn’t talk about his maybe-boyfriend.

Marvin and Jason spoke carefully. They spoke consciously. They forced through their conversation, although who was more desperate for the connection was up for debate. And Trina was  _ sad _ , she was  _ sad _ to see her not straight ex-husband and her son trying to connect. She wondered if, had there been no divorce, the relationship wouldn’t have been strained. It probably would be anyway. But she still wondered.

And soon, Trina left Marvin’s house. She left Jason alone with his father, Marvin alone with his work and with his son and with someone who  _ might _ be his boyfriend a text away. And she thought of all of this as she left, because Trina was getting used to thinking too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> helloooooo how was your daaaaaaay
> 
> if ur reading this and going "hey jaime i don't like how you characterized trina it made her seem useless" then i COMPLETELY AGREE!!! I'm setting her up for some spicy character development tho so just hooooolllddd ooonnn  
> and shes also coping with everything that was stable about her life just falling apart and that takes time ok
> 
> updates might take a lil longer since i am in a virtual musical!! i can't do as much 1am writing so its taking more time, but I'm still working i swear!!
> 
> and finally - CONTINUE SUPPORTING BLM! your voice is SO important, speak out and defund the police babeyyyy
> 
> ok but seriously sign petitions it takes SO much less time to hit that sign button than it did to read this fic... just sayin
> 
> alright i shall leave you now!! comments and kudos make me uwu in over 700 different languages and are very appreciated!! peace out, I'll see you next week on what will be the Jason show!!!!!


	3. too smart for my own good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason listens to his father's speech. He thinks there are a few problems, but maybe, just maybe, things can look up for them.

Jason is very much aware of his father’s plans to run for president. Jason is very much aware of why he’s been spending even more time on his work than usual. Jason is very much aware that he’s been texting more than usual, although he assumes it’s because of the upcoming campaign. Jason doesn’t know. He also doesn’t ask.

Jason doesn’t really understand politics. He listens to his father talk about them sometimes, rant about them, even, but he doesn’t understand them. He doesn’t understand what’s happening on Sunday, when his father stands behind a podium, addressing a fairly large crowd.

The crowd settles down a little, and Jason listens to a speech he’s heard on more than one occasion, one that Marvin practiced at home almost religiously.

“Thank you all for joining me today,” he says into a microphone. “It means so much you could all come out here.”

Jason knows this to be true. Jason knows how much it does mean to his dad, to see people who support him. He knows how much it means to him, that people showed up, that not everyone hates him. That he has supporters somewhere.

“I have to thank you, all of you. I have to thank New York, I have to thank my family, I have to thank the team that works with me, I have to thank everyone who has helped me get here, who has helped me change and grow along with the city.”

This is not true, Jason knows. His father doesn’t  _ have _ to thank anyone. But he does, because he needs to seem humbled. Jason isn’t sure if he really is or not. He doesn’t plan on asking. And he wasn’t thanking anyone at the end, Jason also knows, because the city didn’t grow and change. He wasn’t sure if his father did. He never asked. He probably never will, because the cheers have already drowned the thought from his mind.

“Thank you to everyone from New York City for voting me in as your mayor, for giving me this opportunity to lead you all best I can. Thank you so much for letting me be here, for you. And to anyone who came from farther away: thank you, too.”

Jason’s father isn’t really there for anyone, Jason thinks. He doesn’t know. He’s not confident. As far as he can tell, however, Marvin Gardens is  _ not _ a man of the people. But, then again, the citizens of New York do deserve that thank you. Jason does know his father  _ really _ wouldn’t be here without them. Jason isn’t sure why he thanks people from out of the city. Maybe he wants them to feel loved. Jason doubts it.

“I don’t need to tell you my whole story, I don’t think. But I’ll tell you something, I’ll tell you why it means so much for me to be  _ here _ , in New York City, right here and now. I was born here, I’ve lived here ever since. New York is truly my home, and as far as I’m concerned, it always will be.”

Jason knows that the last sentence is a lie. Jason knows that Washington, D.C. will become just as much a home for him if he gets elected. But Jason didn’t correct him, and he doesn’t now. He just listens to the New Yorkers in the crowd cheering for their city, and to his father continuing his speech.

“I spent my whole life here. My parents moved here when they got married, from the other side of the country, and not long into their New York life, I was here. I went to school here - just a few blocks from here, incidentally - I got my job here, I got married here, I had my son here.”

Jason listens to the applause when he is mentioned without truly taking it in. He wants to shout that his father got divorced here, too. But the crowd knows that. Their mayor just knows better than to remind them.

“New York is, in my mind, the greatest place I could be. I’m honored to have spent my life here, and I’m honored to have met so many of the people that shaped my career and life here.”

And Jason thinks that’s downright bullshit. Jason doesn’t think many people have shaped his career to begin with. But, when he looks at his father, something sparkles in his eyes and Jason knows that his dad is referring to something specific. Jason doesn’t know what. He wonders if he should.

“I like to think that in my roughly ten years as mayor, I’ve been able to preserve the magic that New York always held for me. I certainly hope you can feel it, because something about this city is just  _ right _ . This city is my home, and I hope it’s yours, too.”

_ Yeah, he preserved it _ , Jason thinks sourly.  _ He preserved it by doing nothing. _ And maybe that’s not such a bad thing, Jason thinks to himself. Maybe New York just didn’t need so much fixing to begin with. Jason knows that isn’t true, but he doesn’t think the crowd does, as they applaud the  _ magical city _ . Jason wonders if most campaign announcements have bigger crowds than his. He guesses they do.

“What I haven’t done, though, New York, is changing what needs to be changed.”

Jason is silent. So is the crowd.

“I wanted every citizen of this city to feel how I felt about it. I wanted all of you to see how truly wonderful New York can be. But sometimes, change is necessary. Sometimes, we have to adapt with our communities. And in New York, I’ve been lucky, I confess. I’ve been lucky to work in such a magical place, I’ve been lucky to work in a place that I love, and have always loved. But I do recognize that some things need changing. And I promise you, New York — no, I promise you,  _ America _ , that you will see improvement. I promise that I can make a change.”

Jason is impressed. Too impressed to say what’s true and what’s not. He’s impressed with his father saying, right now, that he is able to make a difference. And Jason thinks he might be able to believe that. Jason thinks he can believe the smile on his father’s face when his words are greeted with cheers, more enthusiastic than the ones before. And when they die down, he speaks again.

“That’s why I’m here today. I’m here, in front of all of you, to promise that we can all do better. I’m here to promise I can help us do better.”

The crowd is excited, they wait with anticipation for Marvin, for Jason’s father, to say the next few words. And Jason does, too.

“I am Marvin Gardens, and I am running to be your president of the United States.”

And then everyone cheers. Jason cheers, he applauds, and he smiles at the sheer effort. He smiles at the hope that his father can keep a promise. He shouts at the idea of his father helping America. And, for the first time in a while, Jason is a little proud to share a last name with this man.

A little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ya miss me
> 
> uhh hello!! i hope you guys enjoyed this part!!
> 
> it took me a while to figure out how i wanted to characterize jason, but i hope it turned out!! he's just rly conflicted and we love him ok
> 
> again, updates r gonna be fairly sporadic for a lil cause of the show i'm in! I'll try not to make y'all wait too long, though <3
> 
> and last but certainly not least - Breonna Taylor's murderers are still free! please go to https://justiceforbreonna.org/ to figure out how to help, going to that website takes SO much less time than reading this fic did!!
> 
> ok, thank you guys!! kudos and comments are SO appreciated!! you can contact me @terrorandbliss on twitter if ya want to scream abt musicals or worship me or whatever ya wanna do!!
> 
> peace out!!!!!


	4. i fear i've lost my head

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whizzer has absolutely no feelings for Marvin. He doesn't care about him, he doesn't care about the presidency, he doesn't care about the election, he refuses to care about anything in regards to Marvin.
> 
> Probably.

Whizzer was lounging on Marvin’s couch, watching him reenter the room with small champagne bottles in hand. He passed one off to Whizzer, sitting down beside him and taking a sip, watching as Whizzer did the same. Marvin was smiling over at the taller man on his couch, one of his arms outstretched over the length of it.

“That was quite a speech you made, Presidential Candidate Marvin Gardens,” said Whizzer eventually, smiling tauntingly over.

“Please, you’d heard it before,” replied Marvin, blushing a little. He sipped his champagne for, Whizzer assumed, something to do.

“Yeah, but it was different hearing you say it,” Whizzer justified. Marvin laughed, and Whizzer did, too. He didn’t laugh because what he said was funny. He laughed because Marvin laughed. “No, I’m being serious! And the world agrees with me.”

Marvin looked over with a soft smile on his face. “Thanks.” He paused for a moment, not breaking their eye contact. “For saying that, and for helping me write it.”

Whizzer merely hummed in response. He didn’t say anything for a moment, considering his words. He spoke, then, “You’re gonna have to prove it, you know. All that shit about being open to change.”

“Oh, I know,” Marvin replied quickly. Whizzer scoffed, because Whizzer didn’t want to convey his hope, and Marvin scowled. “Really. I have rallies and meetings and stuff planned. In parts of the city I don’t usually visit. I’m gonna talk, and I’m gonna listen. Like you said, night we met.”

Whizzer studied Marvin carefully. He didn’t really  _ want _ to believe Marvin. He didn’t want to believe that he’d actually influenced his political career. Because if he did, there were feelings. If that was true, then  _ Marvin _ would have feelings for  _ him _ . And Whizzer wanted to avoid that.

“That’s… good. That’s good.” Whizzer took another sip of champagne, champagne that he could never afford. The nice stuff, the expensive kind. The kind that Whizzer liked. And he didn’t look at Marvin now, but he looked at the champagne and he wondered what  _ happened _ .

He truly wasn’t sure what happened to him. He wasn’t sure why Marvin had his phone number to begin with. He wasn’t sure why he ever responded to Marvin’s text. He wasn’t sure why he was here, at Marvin’s house. He wasn’t sure why it hadn’t taken him convincing to come. He wasn’t sure about Marvin, and Whizzer always had to be sure.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” Marvin laughed, oblivious to the thoughts coursing through Whizzer’s head. He laughed and smiled, and so did Whizzer, because Whizzer didn’t know what else to do. “I can do this. I can help people. I know that more than I used to.”

And Whizzer still avoided Marvin’s gaze. He avoided the blue eyes that he felt on his face, the blue eyes that scared him more than he was willing to admit. The blue eyes that, Whizzer shivered to think, impressed him in some way. Impressed him with how he  _ listened _ , impressed him with how much they got him to do. Whizzer wasn’t supposed to be impressed. Whizzer was supposed to be impressing. Marvin, despite barely knowing Whizzer, was turning his life around entirely. He thinks he might want that. He pretends he doesn't.

Marvin, still oblivious, inched closed to Whizzer. Their thighs made contact, and Whizzer looked up in spite of himself. He looked up at the  _ mayor _ , he looked at someone who, just maybe, would be the president. Someone who just might matter to him. And he spoke again, like he does when he’s with Marvin. Like he’s not supposed to do when he’s with Marvin.

“Well, you have over a year of campaigning before the election. Before primaries, even. A year of changes.”

Marvin shivered a little at the end, his eyes fixed on Whizzer, who couldn’t find it in him to break eye contact again. Who let the blue eyes read him, and who read the blue eyes right back.

“Yeah.” Marvin was silent then, and so was Whizzer. Marvin looked conflicted. Whizzer wanted to ask what was wrong, but he didn’t. Whizzer didn’t care. Whizzer couldn’t care. But he did when Marvin spoke again. “Will you come with me? There’s something tomorrow and I just… I feel like you should be there. Help me not fuck things up right away.”

And Whizzer tried to say no. Whizzer tried to say he was busy, he tried to say he’d rather not, he tried to say he didn’t  _ care _ if Marvin fucked things up right away. But he didn’t. Instead, he said quietly, “Okay.”

And Marvin looked surprised, but he looked happy. And Whizzer smiled carefully, because Marvin looked happy. And then he stopped, because he just  _ smiled  _ because Marvin  _ looked happy _ . Whizzer didn’t smile because men he was screwing ( _ not _ boyfriends) were happy. So he just had another sip of champagne.

After a moment, Whizzer spoke up again. Something he would later blame the champagne on. “So, am I going as a guy you’re screwing or a random guy you met who you have no sexual connection to?”

Marvin stared at Whizzer, thigh touching thigh, his arm against Whizzer’s neck. And he didn’t say anything, but his eyes told Whizzer enough he had to know, and Whizzer said, as if it meant nothing, “The answer won’t offend me, I promise.”

For some reason, something in the blue eyes shifted when Whizzer said that. He pretended not to notice. “I just… I’m not ready,” Marvin said simply. And Whizzer nodded, because Whizzer knew it was okay not to be ready. Hell, Whizzer wasn't even ready for that. Then Whizzer remembered he didn’t care if Marvin was ready, because why on Earth would Whizzer introduce himself to the world as the mayor’s, the presidential candidate’s,  _ boyfriend _ ? No matter what, no matter how carefully the term was avoided, it would be used. And Whizzer didn’t want to be Marvin’s boyfriend. He didn’t want to be anyone’s boyfriend.

“Okay,” said Whizzer, and that was that. And Marvin pulled his legs onto the couch, kneeling beside Whizzer, and he kissed Whizzer, and Whizzer kissed him. Marvin put his hand in Whizzer’s hair. Whizzer put his champagne down.

And that was the end of the night’s politics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wassup
> 
> its me jaime i have returned!! i hope you enjoyed this chapter!! updates should be more frequent now, as today is the last day of my show!!
> 
> Johnathan Mattingly, Brett Hankison, and Myles Cosgrove (the cops who killed Breonna Taylor) have still not been arrested!! PLEASE sign petitions to get justice for her & all the other Black folks wrongfully killed. Your voice matters. ACAB & defund the police.
> 
> that being said, i shall leave you now!! comments and kudos r appreciated more than i can express, and if you want to be my friend/enemy/servant/comrade/accomplice/sidekick/acquaintance/child/god/etc, you can find me @terrorandbliss on twitter!!
> 
> peace out!


	5. work is my passion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin visits Mendel, and they talk. Mendel notices some changes in Marvin, but if they're genuine is anyone's guess.

Marvin sits across from Mendel, arms crossed. He’s waiting for Mendel to start talking. He doesn’t, at first. Mendel just writes something down, ignoring Marvin. Eventually, he looks up, giving Marvin his full (or… mostly full) attention.

“Congrats on the campaign,” Mendel says, smiling kindly. Marvin grunts in response, and Mendel winces lightly. Conversation between the two never really flowed, always choppy. Mendel didn’t think Marvin really listened to him, but he always came to the meetings regardless. Marvin was harder to read than most of his other clients, which certainly said something. Mendel spoke again, “How are you feeling about it?”

Marvin just looks at him, a little confused. Mendel fiddles with his pen absently and checks his watch, knowing the meeting has only just started. And then Marvin speaks, and Mendel turns back to him. “I don’t know. It’s different.”

Mendel nods, trying to seem sympathetic. He isn’t. He doesn’t know what Marvin means, so he asks, posing just for clarification. “Different in what way?”

Marvin is silent again, thinking. Mendel is used to that. “I don’t know,” Marvin admits. “I mean, it’s  _ America _ rather than, like, New York City, but it feels different. Politics feels different. Everything feels different.”

And Mendel nods, some genuine empathy now. He can understand that. “You spoke about change in your speech. What prompted that?” he asks. Marvin doesn’t answer, but it’s a different pause than the ones before. He seems more embarrassed than usual. Mendel encouraged quickly, “You can talk to me, remember. You have my confidentiality.”

Marvin says the next few words very quickly. “Remember when you told me to take a break, to have a night off?” He doesn’t give Mendel a chance to respond. “I went to a bar. Met a guy. He talked to me about politics, and he just… read me, so easily.”

“What do you mean,  _ read you _ ?” Mendel asks. He thinks he knows, but he wants Marvin to say it. He does.

“Just, like, told me I was afraid of change. That I didn’t want my picture perfect New York changed in any way. And he was  _ right _ . And we talked for a while, and he just helped me see some change was necessary, I guess. I listened to him. I don’t usually do that.”

Mendel has a newfound respect for the guy. He's gotten more out of Marvin than Mendel ever has. And Mendel listens to him, taking short notes. He asks, bluntly, whether they were dating. And Marvin says he doesn’t know, he says he wants them to be. He says he knew that Whizzer, Whizzer was his name, doesn’t want them to be. That he told Marvin that. And that Marvin said okay, because he was Whizzer, and because he was pretty, and he was smart, and Marvin  _ liked him _ . He said that Whizzer didn’t want him to like him, but he _did_. And Mendel hadn’t imagined talking to a presidential candidate about a guy, about a  _ crush _ , but he was here, with Marvin, and Marvin was ranting about all things Whizzer.

“How does Whizzer feel about your campaign?” Mendel asked, for the sole reason of having nothing else to say.

“He helped me, with my speech, and with ways to prove I can do something. God, I  _ want _ to do something. Isn't that crazy? He’s motivation more than anything,” Marvin said. “So he’s behind it. I think. Probably.” He paused, letting Mendel write. “I can’t read him so well. He’s closed off, he doesn’t want me to know him. But I do.”

Mendel nods, nods like he relates. He does, in some way. He hazards a guess that Marvin reads Whizzer better than Mendel reads him. He doesn't say this, though. He just keeps asking questions. “Do you think that will affect your campaigning?”

Marvin considers, and Mendel checks his watch again. He grimaces a little when he sees the session’s only halfway through, then reprimands himself for thinking it. This is his  _ client _ , however unbearable he sometimes feels.

This session feels different from ones in the past, though. Something moves easier between them, although maybe that’s just because, for once, Marvin is defending himself. He isn’t actively painting himself a saint picture, but he’s more aware. And that’s something, Mendel thinks. He wonders what would happen if he mentions Trina.

“I don’t know. But it feels like a good thing. I don’t know why,” confides Marvin, breathing more easily after saying it. “And, I mean, there’s over a year until primaries alone. I can try this. We can try this.”

Mendel snaps himself back, and it takes him a moment to even realize what he had asked. He blinks, and something in his mind is vaguely impressed, impressed that Marvin can  _ try things _ during a presidential run. That isn’t something he used to be able to do. Mendel isn’t sure if it’ll last. He finds himself hoping it will.

He hums to Marvin’s comment, writing something down. Marvin might just become a manageable person, yet. And, to test the waters, he asks Marvin a simple question.

“Switching over to a completely different topic, if that’s okay with you, can we talk about Trina?”

Marvin tenses up a little, but exhales and nods slowly. Mendel breathes, and speaks quickly, taking advantage of this  _ changed Marvin _ while it lasts.

“Has she spoken to you about wanting to take Jason here?”

Marvin grunts in acknowledgment. He sounds indifferent.

“Would it be okay with you if she came in, just to talk about him?” Mendel asks carefully. He knows it's easy to set Marvin off, he knows that the comment will. He's right.

Marvin fires up immediately. “Why not talk to me?” he asks quickly. Mendel jumps to appease him, answering almost at once.

“I’m getting there! I just wanted to ask first.” Mendel thinks this might be the fastest interaction they’ve had. The smoothest, the immediate retorts. Some part of him takes a weird kind of pride in it.

Marvin just huffs, speaking after some time. “I guess. Just, like…” he falters, clearly figuring out what to say. Mendel laughs and responds anyway.

“I won’t tell her everything you’ve told me. I couldn’t if I wanted to, Marvin.” And Marvin still looks a little uncomfortable, but Mendel disregards it. Does that make him a bad psychiatrist? Maybe, but Mendel has what he wanted. So he pushes it from his mind and addresses Marvin again. “But let’s talk about you and Jason. Does it still feel strained?”

Marvin jumps on the subject, allowing a short pause before answering. “Yeah. Sometimes it feels like he wants to talk, too, but then it doesn’t. He just brushes me off, I don’t think he wants to be  _ seen _ with me. And I just… I don’t know what to do with that.”

Mendel considers for a moment, turning to notes from a previous meeting. “Have you told Jason this?” he asks. He knows the answer. He asks it for something to say.

“No.” He looks like he has something else to say, but he doesn’t say it. Mendel doesn’t make him.

And Mendel gets some burst of appreciation for his job, like he does on rare occasion. Maybe psychiatry isn’t the best career to rely on jolts of inspiration to get you through, but Mendel disregards it, because he  _ realizes  _ something.

He realizes that Marvin wants it all. Marvin wants everything. And what kind of thirteen-year-old kid wants that? And that maybe Jason wants a relationship with Marvin just as much as Marvin does, but he doesn't want to be warped into everything that comes with it. And that's fair. And Mendel considers telling Marvin this, but he doesn't.

“He might still care about you, he’s just thirteen. He’s getting more independent; he’s growing up,” says Mendel. He thinks this is half true, but he doesn’t elaborate. Not until he can talk to Jason.

Marvin sighs, something so  _ lost _ within it that Mendel feels genuine sympathy. “I know, I guess, he’s just my  _ son _ . I hate watching him get older. The joys of parenting, I guess.” Marvin laughs at the end. Mendel doesn’t.

And from there, they talk more about Jason, more about the election, a little more about Whizzer. And then time’s up, and then Marvin leaves, and Mendel thinks about him, and he thinks about Jason. He thinks about Trina, too, but definitely not in the same sense.

The thought following Mendel as he leaves the office for the day is one he hasn't had in a while. But as he locks up, he wonders whether he'll ever understand the Gardens completely. He doubts it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heyyyy it's me again!!
> 
> so. it's been like. two weeks. and i apologize!! i've had awful writer's block for a while now, and i know this chapter doesn't make up for the break and i am sorry!!! i'm writing four chapters ahead, and the one i just finished (9) miiight just be my favorite one yet so have patience dear friends
> 
> also i've come to a discovery — if you say updates will be more frequent in your notes, you will not update for a long time. it's a curse!! so that being said, updates will probably take a reeeaaallly loooonngg time (wink wink nudge nudge)
> 
> finally - blm still needs your support. this movement doesn't end until we've gotten justice for all the wrongfully killed Black people and prevented it happening in future. acab, defund the police, no justice no peace.
> 
> ok i hope you all have a lovely day!! comments and kudos mean so so much, and feel free to reach out to me @terrorandbliss on twitter, i absolutely want to be ur friend and if you're offering ur worst enemy ok love ya peace out!!


	6. what do i hope for

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason thinks about his father, along with the rest of the world. And Jason thinks about the perfect relationship they could only dream of having.

Jason has never been outspoken in school.

This is a cold, hard fact. Jason is quiet, usually. People don’t usually talk to him, and he upholds the unspoken agreement and doesn’t talk to people. When they do, they ask about his father — they ask about the mayor of New York City, and they ask about what it’s like being his son. And Jason loves his father (usually. Can you say that about your father?) and Jason smiles when they ask, but it turns to a grimace when they leave. Because why isn’t Jason more than just a Gardens?

Jason never voices any of this, though. Jason keeps it inside, because Jason keeps most things inside. He keeps the conversations he wishes he could have inside. He keeps his fantasies about how life could be inside.

A girl comes up to Jason, then. A pretty girl, Jason can see. He smiles at her, and she congrats him on his dad’s campaign. And he groans internally, but he smiles and says thank you.

_ “Hey, do you want to talk?” she asks then, smiling with such  _ kindness _ that Jason isn’t expecting. And Jason grins and nods, and they go to an empty classroom. “How are things? With you?” _

_ And Jason smiles so wide, wider than he has in a long time. Because maybe, just maybe, this girl cares about him and not just his last name. God, he wants someone to care about his first name. And Jason opens his mouth, because he feels safe with this girl, and he tells her everything. _

_ “I could be better, I think,” Jason considers. He pauses for a second, before realizing that’s what his father does. His father pauses when he’s asked a question, he thinks it over and considers it. He makes sure he has an answer ready for everything. And Jason isn’t his father, so he talks. _

_ “I hate everything at home. Weekdays with Mom, weekends with Dad. And both of them are so lonely, they’re  _ so _ lonely, that I pity them. I pity my parents. I don’t think I’m supposed to pity my parents. _

_ “I pity my mom, because she’s still in love with Dad. Actually, no she’s not. She’s obsessed with him. She can’t let go of him, and I want her to, because she’s miserable. I want her to be happy. I want everyone to be happy. Mom’s nice, and she cares about Dad, but I don’t think she remembers how not to care. I wish she did. She’s getting hurt.” _

_ Jason breathes for a moment. He doesn’t consider anything, but he breathes, and he takes in the air. It feels different after saying all of that, but he has more. “And, God, my dad.” He groans already. _

_ “I love Dad. I think. And he’s nice, sometimes, and he talks to me, basically, and he does things with me, when he’s not too busy. Nothing’s 100% with him, ever. And sometimes, I don’t even think he cares about me. Well, he does, but more about his job. And everyone expects us to have this picture-perfect relationship, and everyone expects us to get along, because, yeah,  _ maybe _ he’ll become president. But we don’t. Not as well as I want us to.” _

_ Something about the air is clearer. The pollution, the dirt, it’s all gone. It’s clear, undiluted air, and Jason hasn’t breathed this in far too long. And it feels so good, it feels so good to talk. It feels good to have Heather Levin across from him, and it feels so good to have her care. Because she does, and she’s looking at him with so much understanding it’s overwhelming. He takes another deep breath of the clear air, wondering how he went without it. _

The air isn’t clear, though. It’s dirty again, because he didn’t go into a classroom. He’s standing at his locker, gazing absentmindedly at the place where Heather congratulated  him and walked away.

Jason isn’t surprised when the fantasy ends. He’s had enough of them, lately, that the jolt back to reality is only a little disappointing. And Jason is proud to be Marvin’s son right now, he’s proud of what his father is trying to accomplish. But it’s not wrong to want more than that…. right?

Jason gets through the school day okay. He smiles when someone mentions his father, he pretends it’s genuine. No one notices it isn’t. He isn’t sure if he wants them to. He takes the bus home, away from his classmates, away from people that recognize him. Jason breathes when he’s away from so much  _ expectancy _ , he breathes not the clean air he had a taste of before, but he inhales it nonetheless. He lets all facades drop — because now, instead of  _ Jason Gardens _ , he’s just  _ Jason _ . And that’s okay.

When he arrives at his mom’s house, she’s already home and cooking. Jason breathes in the scent, the food on tainted air. He pokes his head in the kitchen to let her know he’s home. She asks him how school was, and is submerged into yet another bliss again.

_ “Okay,” Jason responds, shrugging sheepishly and sitting down, putting his backpack to his side. “People kept talking about Dad.” _

_ Trina nods, pressing something on the oven and sitting down beside him. “I thought they would. I’m sorry that has to follow you around.” _

_ Jason smiles. “‘I’m sorry,’ isn’t one I’ve heard much of, to be honest.” He sighs, letting his head rest on the table, comprehending his thoughts for the first time in a while. _

_ And then Trina puts an arm around him and says words Jason has longed to hear — “You can still be proud of him without wanting everything to revolve around him, you know.” _

_ The words feel too good to be true, too personal. He lets this be his guide back to reality, the subtle reminder that no one  _ will _ tell him that, because he hasn’t told anyone he wants them to. _

Instead, Jason is still standing by the door. “It was okay,” he says simply. Trina looks like she has something to say, but he turns on his heel and leaves, because he doesn’t think he can talk about his father for one more moment.

A sigh follows him out the door, but he keeps walking until he’s in his room. He lies on his bed, and he stares at the ceiling. And that’s enough, for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bonjour
> 
> it is me!! welcome to a chapter!! or i guess this is the end so say ur farewells to the chapter... ok excellent now that you've done that i'd like to point out jason only calls marvin "Dad" in fantasies when in real life he only says "my dad" or "my father" to make it less personal because he doesn't feel like their relationship is at the point where he can say that as much as he wants to okay sorry bye
> 
> I'm pretty sure this has over 300 hits which just. WOW??? i'm very grateful for the support this fic has got, it means a lot! and almost 40 kudos... isn't that wild? like nearly 40 ppl read this and spent time to like leave kudos and stuff wowowow that's crazy thank you so much
> 
> and now, for the thing more important than anything else - KEEP TALKING ABOUT BLM. we still don't have justice, and the movement doesn't end until we do. black lives are invaluable and we need to protect them.
> 
> ok that being said, goodbye! as always, pls find me @terrorandbliss on twitter because i cannot imagine anything i would enjoy more than being ur friend!! comments and kudos mean more than i can express so if ya wanna leave some i will love you forever okay this note is already very long so goodbye see ya next time!!


	7. i do not accept blame

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whizzer isn't going to be caught dead having feelings for anyone. This fact is becoming especially apparent to Marvin.

Whizzer sits on the edge of Marvin’s bed, buttoning his shirt carefully. He feels Marvin’s gaze on him. He ignores it, as he always does. He looks down, refusing to remove his eyes from the shirt, even as he feels Marvin moving on the bed beside him.

“That’s it?” Marvin asks, almost hopefully. Almost like the question can will Whizzer to stay, and what? Curl up with him in his bed? Pull him close with his fingers absently in his hair? Because Whizzer doesn’t  _ do _ that, Whizzer  _ refuses _ to do that.

“Yep,” he says simply, his eyes still fixed on the shirt, doing up the topmost buttons. “You know how I roll.”

Marvin pouts. “Hey, we didn’t have our serious political discussion today!” And Whizzer laughs, because Whizzer could  _ not  _ have imagined someone ever saying that to him after a screw before.

“I didn’t realize it was a requirement. I always took it as more of a weird sort of foreplay,” Whizzer reasons, tucking in his shirt and straightening it down, refusing to let his eyes rest on Marvin. If they do, he might actually not leave, and that’s terrifying.

Marvin laughs now, and Whizzer does everything in his power not to glance over at him. He stares fixedly at his shirt, he is  _ not _ going to give in to this, he is  _ not _ going to look at him. “You save my ass and my political career. In that order, in this case.”

Whizzer lets out a chortle, instinctively glancing at Marvin, cursing himself immediately for doing it. “Saving?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow, staring into his eyes and regretting having glanced back at them.

“You get my point!” Marvin says quickly, capitalizing on Whizzer’s full attention. “I wanted to talk to you about… about us. Publicly.”

Whizzer’s heart drops. He stares at Marvin, not really seeing him, his thoughts running as if they were in a time-limited marathon. Whizzer isn’t going public, Whizzer isn’t going to let the world call him Marvin’s  _ boyfriend _ , Whizzer isn’t Marvin’s boyfriend, Whizzer isn’t going to be known as the guy who dated the gay presidential candidate.

“Marvin…“ Whizzer starts, not sure what he’s going to say, not sure what excuse he’s going to invent for himself. “What would we even say?” he invents wildly.

“I don’t know I just… I’m not sure about you, but I feel like the Conservatives would feel pretty cheated if I were to win and then said I was gay right after.” Marvin cracks a smile, sitting up, looking at Whizzer. Whizzer isn’t looking at him anymore, but staring blankly at a point over his shoulder.

Whizzer is silent, his thoughts rushing to his mind, screaming in his head and shouting for his attention. He begins slowly, treading carefully, “But we’re not… I mean, this isn’t…”

Marvin sighs, looking at Whizzer carefully. “You don’t want to be my boyfriend.” He says this, not as a question, but as a statement. Whizzer doesn’t deny it. Marvin speaks again after a few moments. “But this doesn’t have to change. I’m not asking you to, like, profess your love for me or anything. I just—“

Whizzer interrupts him quickly now, staring back into his eyes with any fear of staying erased. “—wanted to use me as a political stunt. Yeah.”

Marvin recoils a little under Whizzer’s gaze. “That’s not true.” The words only fuel Whizzer, who responds immediately.

“I’m  _ not _ your boyfriend, Marvin. I’ve made that clear. I’m not going to lie and say I am, which  _ is _ what you’re asking for.”

Whizzer spits the words out, knowing them to be true and somehow wishing they weren’t all the while. Marvin just looks at him, just stares at him with a hint of the look from the bar where they met visible in his eyes. The childlike aspect of him, a pleading in his eyes, as if he were desperate for Whizzer to listen to him. It almost makes him give up, it almost makes him give in and go back in the bed with Marvin and just  _ sleep _ . But he doesn’t, he doesn’t because he doesn’t even want Marvin to fathom a possibility where Whizzer is more than what he is now. Whizzer isn’t Marvin’s boyfriend, and he doesn’t want to be. Probably.

“Can we talk about it, then?” Marvin asks carefully, his eyes not leaving Whizzer’s. Whizzer wonders absently if he knows about the quality in his gaze that makes him reconsider. He probably does.

“We are,” Whizzer says shortly, standing up from the bed with no real purpose, leaning against the wall opposite and smoothing out his shirt.

Marvin sighs. He doesn’t look young and childish anymore. He looks older than Whizzer’s seen him yet. Whizzer ignores his feelings about it, Whizzer ignores the twinge of guilt resting in his stomach.

“I mean, like, sensibly. Without fighting. Just a discussion.”

Whizzer doesn’t speak for a moment. He considers saying he doesn’t think that’s possible, he considers saying it’s too late to go back on the fight now. But he doesn’t. Instead, he folds his arms and says simply, “Fine.”

Marvin exhales, sitting upright on the bed and looking up at Whizzer. “Why are you so against it?” he asks eventually.

The question is simple. In fact, Whizzer is sure Marvin knows the answer. He thinks this question isn’t asking why he’s against it, it’s asking whether he’s going to be honest for once, or whether he’s going to lie. And Whizzer considers Marvin, because Whizzer  _ wants _ to be honest, and he wants to have this discussion, but he doubts that he can. Or, that when it comes down to it, he will. He tries to will himself into telling the truth, he tries to will himself to say  _ I’m scared _ . But he can’t, so he doesn’t.

“I couldn’t be seen in public with you, imagine what it’d do to my reputation,” he retorts. The line has the exact effect he intends it to. Marvin crumples, not with his figure, but in his eyes. Any spark leaves them, and he just looks  _ hurt _ . And Whizzer takes a weird sort of pride in it. Whizzer can't be expected to do this. Marvin can't expect him to do this. He's not doing this.

And ignoring any feelings in his chest telling him to suck it up and talk, ignoring the twinge of regret that comes with it, Whizzer stands upright, runs his hands down his shirt as to straighten it one more time, and walks out of the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and welcome back to whizzer denying his feelings for a long freaking time
> 
> uhh hi i hope you enjoyed this chapter!! gonna keep it short (if i am capable of such a thing) today, so comments and kudos are so indescribably appreciated and motivate me to write and make me veeeery happy!!
> 
> go sign some petitions. do it. it only takes a few minutes to contribute to making change. get justice for breonna taylor and so many more.
> 
> see you next time babes!! sorry for the shortish chapter but i know y'all love ur whizzer content and we have uh,,, five chapters straight of whizzer-time coming up so brace yourselves


	8. and you always see the glass half full

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whizzer turns to Cordelia in his hour of need. Cordelia isn't quite sure of what to think of the guy that's entered Whizzer's life, except that maybe it's worth changing for.

Whizzer hadn’t stayed in Marvin’s apartment after leaving the room, after leaving Marvin and leaving any feelings he might have been able to have. He walked out the door, and he went on the subway, and he listened to the  _ train _ , which was almost loud enough to drown out his thoughts. It was almost loud enough to drown out the regret swallowing him. And he ran his hands through his hair and stared at his reflection out the window. He was _ashamed_ of what looked back, at the genuine human looking back. Because Whizzer doesn’t do feelings, Whizzer doesn’t act like a human. But he looks like one, and that’s terrifying.

He doesn’t go to his apartment. He thinks about it, but he pauses outside his door before turning right around and heading to his neighbors’. Instead of confronting himself, instead of being alone in his feelings and alone in his apartment, he goes next door.

This is what Cordelia picks up from Whizzer’s flustered rant. Whizzer, who is now lying on her couch with his head in her lap while she absently plays with his hair. Whizzer, who she knows is seeking validation for what he did, and for how he left. Whizzer, who just wants to feel a little bit better. And Cordelia can give him that. For now.

Cordelia runs her fingers soothingly through his hair again, listening to him explain the conversation, the constant defenses in his voice evident. And Cordelia knows Whizzer better than she knows herself, so she knows that as he does this, he regrets it. She knows that Whizzer, the unfeeling alien, feels like he did something wrong. And that’s unusual, and it’s unusual for Whizzer to panic like this. It was unusual for Whizzer to agree to even speak with Marvin again, and things have only gotten stranger.

“—if we’d done that, it would’ve become a  _ relationship _ . Like, actual dating and shit. Maybe we’d go through one of those cliches where we have to, like, fake a relationship for press and then we catch feelings and start dating and I  _ can’t _ do that!” Whizzer says it like he’s trying to convince himself, not Cordelia. But she knows he wouldn’t admit that, so she doesn’t, either.

“Why not?” Cordelia asks carefully. She continues running her fingers through his hair, looking down at him with a soft smile.

Whizzer looks aghast at the question. He splutters, trying to fathom an answer. “Because, I— I mean, I just— look, I— I… don’t know,” he admits finally, the anger draining from him.

Cordelia frowns down at him, studying him. He looks tired. And he looks so  _ helpless _ that she knows she’ll tell him he did the right thing, and she’ll comfort him. Her mouth is open when Whizzer poses a new question, one that Cordelia hasn’t heard before.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Cordelia just stares back at him, pursing her lips slightly. She’s concerned, she’s confused, and she has no idea what Marvin Gardens is doing to her friend. “I’d never admit it to him, but still,” Whizzer adds quickly, probably noticing Cordelia’s confusion. She laughs a little, chewing on her words.

“It’s okay not to want that. Or to be scared of what going public means, and he should be able to understand that. But… yeah.” Whizzer groans, running a hand down his face. “You’re not going to like this,” Cordelia continues, her hand still in his hair.

“Oh no,” Whizzer says immediately, causing Cordelia to smile. She continues calmly as she can.

“But you should probably talk to Marvin. Like, have an honest discussion.” Whizzer groans, leaning his head back. Cordelia studies him, waiting.

Whizzer is silent for awhile, not looking at Cordelia. Eventually, he says abruptly, “What good would even come out of going public anyway?”

“Our first openly gay president, for starters,” says a voice from the door. Cordelia’s smile widens when her girlfriend walks in, kissing her quickly when she sits down on the couch beside her.

“Yeah! Isn’t being a part of that worth something? And, anyway, you  _ like  _ him!” Cordelia adds fervently, nodding.

“I do not,” Whizzer says instinctively. Cordelia knows better than to respond, but cocks an eyebrow down at him. “I… don’t.” He sounds more like he’s convincing himself again.

Cordelia sighs sympathetically, sharing a look with Charlotte. A small silence settles between them, and Cordelia breaks her silence once more. “You’re constantly telling Marvin that the way to refine his political stance is through change, right?” Whizzer nods, and Cordelia plows on. “Well, you’re right. And you need to take your own advice. Get a boyfriend! Have fun!”

Whizzer bites his lip, his eyes fixed at a spot on the ceiling. Cordelia knew she had overstepped, and she knew chances were good that Whizzer would take none of it to heart, But, in her mind, at least he heard it. She knew that he was aware of what he was doing, even if he hated it, even if it made him miserable. Because Cordelia knew that was Whizzer — stubborn as hell. Scared, too, even if he’d never admit it.

And Cordelia and Charlotte comfort Whizzer, they tell him that he  _ should _ go and talk to Marvin, but if he can’t, they won’t force him. They think he needs to talk, and open up for once in his life, and the confident and optimistic Whizzer she's spent years knowing looks  _ scared _ . Cordelia hasn’t really seen Whizzer scared all too often, so the effect is vaguely alarming.

Whizzer tells them things that Marvin told him and things Marvin didn’t need to tell him. He tells them about the relationship Marvin wants them to have (one that Cordelia is sure Whizzer wants, too, but one he’ll never ask for). He tells them about the relationship that they do have, the one that Whizzer is comfortable with. Charlotte proposes that feeling some discomfort would be good for him. Whizzer looks conflicted.

And when Whizzer leaves their apartment, Cordelia thinks there’s a chance that Whizzer  _ will _ talk to Marvin. And that’s weird, and that’s different. She knows Whizzer wouldn't actually be willing to go so far as a genuine relationship anytime soon, but the fact that he's _considering_ it is something that used to be unheard of. And Cordelia curls up with Charlotte on their couch, the doctor’s arm around the caterer, and they put whatever's on the television in the background.

Neither Charlotte nor Cordelia had liked Marvin Gardens to begin with. They’d never met the guy themselves, but they knew him well enough from being the mayor alone. And Whizzer assures them that he’s  _ different _ in real life, and Cordelia knows this to be true. She knows that not anyone could turn Whizzer’s life around, but she also doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or not. But, then again, some change would do him good.

Cordelia doesn’t like Marvin. But Whizzer does, and Whizzer can continue saying he doesn’t, but he does. If he didn’t, he wouldn’t have ever agreed to meet Marvin again. No, he definitely liked him. Loved? No matter what, the word would be too much to unload onto him. But maybe, even if Whizzer kept up a constant denial. Maybe he did.

Cordelia knows Whizzer inside and out. And Cordelia knows that something is changing. And maybe that’s scary for her, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guess what you just met ur fave lesbians and now it's ur other fave lesbian coming to you from the notes
> 
> i haven't updated for a lil while but it's fine here is part two of a five chapter whizzer crisis (crisis will continue after five chapters, it's only consecutive now)
> 
> so in case you couldn't tell i Changed Some Canon Things, for instance char & delia are whizzer's neighbors rather than marvin's, and whizzer is the one friends with them for Storytelling Purposes
> 
> more importantly - SIGN PETITIONS. NOW. it doesn't take long and using your voice right now is so indescribably important!!
> 
> that's all!! see you next time for (you guessed it) another whizzer crisis!! comments and kudos are immeasurable and i'd love to hear what you have to say!! love y'all, peace out!!!


	9. oh, what a lovely table

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tight-knit family shares a dinner. Trina is conflicted. So is Whizzer.

Trina knew exactly what was going to happen when she went to Marvin’s for dinner. He hadn’t skated around telling her anything, he was absolutely clear with his words. With what Marvin had told her, there was no way for Trina to pretend she wasn’t about to meet Marvin’s maybe-boyfriend. She’d recognized the continuous arrival with what seemed to be some sort of confusion on Marvin’s part for what their relationship was, per se. Trina didn’t know why they didn’t just say it, why they didn’t just agree that they were boyfriends and move on. It brought some kind of satisfaction for her to blame it on Marvin, though.

Trina had spent over a year in Marvin’s shadow beyond their divorce. A year of hopelessly standing by. She’d visited Mendel recently, to talk about Jason, but he’d advised her to try and  _ let go _ . Slowly but surely. And, if all went well tonight, Jason would start seeing Mendel, too. He’d be at their dinner tonight, too, as well as some of Marvin’s maybe-boyfriend’s friends. She supposes they thought that if half of them are going to meet, they might as well get it all out there at once. Which, she figures, could either go really well or really poorly. Maybe even both.

When Trina knocks on the door, she feels a clenching in her chest, an exhilarating terror within her. The door opens, and Marvin is there, and he smiles, Jason hugs him with clear tension, and they enter the apartment. Her heart sinks with growing apprehension that she is unfamiliar with, but that must come from the prospect of meeting… whoever she was meeting.

Sitting on the couch is a man who immediately angers Trina, even though he’s done nothing wrong. She pretends he doesn’t, and she smiles as warmly as she can. He smiles back, standing up and shaking her hand.

“Hi! Trina, right? And Jason?” He gestures to the kid beside Trina at the end, smiling kindly down at him. Jason smiles hesitantly back, and Trina can sense he’s already sort of comforted by him.

“Yes, it’s great to finally meet you, uh…” Trina didn’t even realize she didn’t know his name before now. Marvin hadn’t mentioned it. She looks apologetically at him, and he recovers quickly.

“Whizzer.” Trina brushes off the unusual name as easily as Whizzer does the hurt that flashed on his face at her hesitation. Trina knows the games that come with dating Marvin well, and pity already rises in her chest before she can stop it. She’s not allowed to pity him, she reminds herself. He’s her ex-husband’s maybe-boyfriend. She can’t pity him.

Conversation is awkward, especially at the beginning. Things are tense between Whizzer and Marvin, Trina can see that. She pretends she doesn’t see the half glances they throw each other, the concern (fear?) in their eyes when they do. She acts like nothing’s wrong, because that’s what Trina’s best at.

Trina finds some solace in the arrival of Whizzer’s friends, Charlotte and Cordelia. They’re sweet and bring some brightness to the room, and conversation flows more freely as their numbers increase. Cordelia looks at Whizzer with concern, but Trina pretends she doesn’t notice.

When Mendel arrives, their group is complete. Trina has been honing her skill of pretending not to notice that evening, and she uses it more on the looks Mendel gives her. She thinks he thinks he’s being discreet. He’s not. She’s not sure how she feels about it yet, but she thinks it could be something good.

Conversation is both tense and natural all at once. Trina listens to the discussion without really hearing it. She acknowledges Whizzer has a nice laugh (of course he does). She also notices he looks stuck, but he hides it well — Trina can only tell from recognizing herself in it. And the pity trickles in undeniably now, because how on Earth is Trina supposed to hate him? She gives up trying to.

And they sit down for dinner, soon. It’s something Whizzer’s friend, Cordelia, cooked. The food is mediocre at best, but Trina doesn’t comment. She smiles and says it’s delicious, because she might as well continue smiling and lying.

The silence at the table feels deafening. Trina speaks, now, to get rid of it. “Hey, Marvin, you can take Jason to the baseball thing this weekend, right?” She knows he can, but he seems just as grateful as she is for a subject.

Marvin nods, and Whizzer speaks from beside him. “Do you play?” The question is directed at Jason, and he directs it with care at the kid. Jason blushes a little and responds.

“I want to. This is the tryout thing tomorrow,” Jason explains. “Do you?” he asks with interest. Whizzer is about to respond, but Cordelia beats him to it.

“He does. He was the star of our high school team. College, too,” she says immediately, grinning over at Whizzer who has a modest expression. “He’s great.”

“Oh, you flatter me,” he says, taking a sip of wine and smiling over at her. He turns to Jason as he swallows. “I can give you some tips sometime, if you want.”

Jason grins, reinforcing Trina’s inability to hate the man. “Okay!” he says, and Whizzer laughs again. Marvin looks between them, looking confused. Maybe jealous.

The dinner continues with playful banter within the group, conversation growing more lively and comfortable as time progresses. It isn’t until plates are mostly cleared that Trina poses a question she’s been wondering, a question she underestimates the effects of.

“Are you guys going public soon?” she asks Whizzer and Marvin, seemingly indifferent. Immediately a cold silence falls over the room. Whizzer glances over at Marvin, almost pleading for their eyes to meet. Marvin doesn’t look at Whizzer. “You don’t have to answer, I’m sorry—“ Trina says immediately.

“We are.” Whizzer says this very quickly, as if trying to get the words out before he loses his nerve. Marvin turns to Whizzer, now, and their eyes lock and have an exchange that Trina doesn’t try to read. A vague sort of pride is evident on Cordelia’s face. Marvin looks scared, but happy. Whizzer breathes in carefully, resignation and hope warring in his expression.

Then it’s silent, while Marvin looks over at Whizzer, a kindness she’s not entirely unfamiliar with in his eyes. Whizzer breaks for a moment, a moment so brief she thinks she might be the only one who notices it aside from Marvin. He gives a soft smile before turning back to his plate, as if he can’t look at Marvin anymore. As if he’s scared something will crack again if he does.

Conversation starts again, slowly but surely. Marvin doesn’t engage. Whizzer does. Trina notices how Marvin’s gaze is almost entirely fixated on Whizzer, while Whizzer does the opposite, refusing to look at Marvin. She watches her ex-husband’s expression change into something more hurt, although he’s clearly trying to hide it. Both of them finish off a glass of wine.

Trina makes these observations to herself throughout the entire dinner. She comments on none of it. She makes nothing but offhand light-spirited remarks throughout the remainder of the meal. Mendel talks actively, oblivious to it all, and Jason engages only half-heartedly. Charlotte and Cordelia act like everything’s fine, but their repeated glances at Whizzer are obvious to Trina.

And, as Mendel’s about to leave, they do ask Jason to see Mendel. And, even stranger still, he asks for Whizzer’s advice on the matter. Whizzer, a man he barely knows, and that  _ stumps _ Trina. What does the opinion of his father’s maybe-boyfriend mean to him? A lot, she realizes quickly, and she can’t complain. She can’t complain about Whizzer when he does things only that benefit her. God, she wants him to make a mistake, or to say something stupid, so she can hate him. But he doesn’t, because Whizzer is just perfect.

And so Jason agrees to see Mendel, but only if Mendel comes to the house, which is more than fine with Trina. Marvin looks a little hesitant, but he agrees. And it’s settled. And then Mendel and Charlotte and Cordelia leave, and Trina takes it upon herself to clean up, because she knows Marvin won’t.

When Trina walks in the dining room, she sees Whizzer and Marvin. Their foreheads are touching, Marvin rubbing Whizzer’s arms and whispering something Trina can’t hear. Whizzer nods and smiles, but Trina can sense his fear. Then Marvin kisses him softly before parting, and he smiles at Whizzer, and then he goes into the next room. To Jason, probably.

Trina watches Whizzer for a moment. He stares after Marvin, he looks conflicted, and yet more vulnerable than Trina has seen him yet. He shakes himself back to reality and starts collecting the plates off the table.

And then Trina enters the room. Whizzer looks up when he sees her, attempting to smile. Trina smiles, too, hers almost just as forced. 

“I can do this, if you want,” Trina says carefully. Whizzer smiles again, a sad smile that Trina recognizes from herself all too well.

“No, it’s fine. Gives me an excuse to be alone,” he says, chuckling a little at the end. Trina understands that, and she comes inside the room fully, grabbing some plates at the end of the table.

Whizzer just studies her, and Trina confides in him slowly. “Being with Marvin is a pain in the ass sometimes. I know that.” Whizzer laughs a little, still looking at her. “Publicity is annoying. And it gets worse, believe me. And there’s going to be times where you regret ever meeting him. But sometimes, it’s going to feel worth it. And that’s worth something.” She pauses for a moment, before adding on quickly, “That’s not to say don’t dump his ass if it gets excessive, of course.”

Whizzer just looks at her. He considers the words for a moment, giving Trina the chance to consider why she’s telling Whizzer any of this to begin with. Why would she try to preserve her ex-husband’s new relationship? She doesn’t have a good answer.

“I just… thank you,” Whizzer says eventually. “Thanks for that.” And Trina nods, and she doesn’t try to read him like she knows that she can. She can let him have this.

“Of course,” she says kindly. “And if you ever need to rant about him being an ass, know I am  _ always _ open to that.” Whizzer laughs, and she does, too. And then Whizzer insists that she can leave, and she does.

And, miraculously, she feels a little better than she did when she came in the house to begin with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> trina and whizzer solidarity
> 
> uhh to start off!! happy birthday to the legend, the icon, mr andrew rannells!! i hope he had some Epic zoom parties today!!!!
> 
> ok now abt the chapter - i hope y'all enjoyed this one!! i've been excited to write them all together for a while, the worlds have collided!! also whizzer did a thing so we're proud of him!!
> 
> hey you yes you!! sign a petition. now. go hurry up it's so easy to do and it's a great way to support the blm movement. use! your! voice!
> 
> that's all for today! i'd love to be your friend, feel free to hmu @terrorandbliss on twitter!! comments and kudos are SO appreciated, let me know what you thought of this chap!! love you guys, see you next time!! :)


	10. i love the things i never had

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason is confident that Whizzer has no flaws, that he's absolutely perfect. Or... was confident.

Jason is sitting on the couch in his father’s house. His dad is there, and Whizzer is, too. It’s only been a month since he’s met Whizzer, but Jason likes him. Whizzer includes him and tells him jokes, and sometimes they make fun of Marvin together, too.

Jason also likes his father, that seems important to mention. Jason loves his father, but it’s not easy. An easy relationship between them had never existed, and while it was apparent it was something both of them wanted, neither of them knew how to go about getting it. And Whizzer changes the dynamic they had, too. Because his dad can talk to Whizzer, and Jason can talk to Whizzer. Just not to each other.

And Jason supposes that the conversation that Whizzer mediates is better than nothing. And Whizzer always tries to include Jason in his and Marvin’s conversations, and it’s like he can sense when Jason has something to say. And when they fight, because they do fight quite a bit, Whizzer gets Jason out first, and he’s grateful for that. He’s heard enough of his mom and dad fighting to last a lifetime.

Whizzer seems invincible. He never looks hurt, not really, not to Jason. He’s envious of that. Whizzer can deflect arguments, he goes through life with a carefree demeanor. Whizzer is perfect. He knows his dad feels the same way.

Interrupting his thought is Whizzer. “Hey, Marvie? Idea.”

Jason already smiles in anticipation, sure Whizzer has some cocky plan up his sleeve. Marvin seems to be thinking the same way, because he sighs at the nickname and says as if he’s bracing himself, “What?”

“Okay, so,” Whizzer begins immediately. “Imagine if you campaigned solely on Monopoly jokes.”

Jason laughs before piping up quickly, “That’s what I said!”

Whizzer gives Jason a glowing smile. “See?” He said, turning back to Marvin with an eyebrow cocked.

Marvin sighs deeply, and Jason laughs as he waits for the response. Whizzer’s smile doesn’t falter, and Marvin looks between the two. “Why would I campaign on Monopoly jokes?” He asks finally, turning between the two.

In that moment, both Whizzer and Jason shout something along the lines of - “Your name is Marvin Gardens! How can you pass that up?”

And Marvin just looks at the two of them and laughs. He laughs a real, genuine laugh. Jason hasn’t heard that for a while. “Okay, I’ll play. What would the hypothetical campaign platform be?”

Jason says nothing, because Jason doesn’t know how to campaign with that. Whizzer does, though. Perfect Whizzer shoots up almost at once. “I don’t know, like,  _ If you stop at Marvin Gardens, we won’t make you pay a fee. Marvin Garvins for president _ .”

Marvin just looks at him for a minute, a smile on his face. “That sounds more like you’re asking me to get rid of taxes.”

Whizzer deadpans immediately. “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly what I’m asking. You should run on a campaign where you promise to get rid of taxes. I’d vote for you.”

Jason laughs, and so does Marvin. It’s a good moment, good moments that come and go. He’s grateful for it.

“I don’t know how to tell you this, but I can’t get rid of taxes,” Marvin says, a smirk evident on his face. Jason laughs again, and Marvin spares him a smile, his eyes twinkling. Jason doesn’t get so many of these smiles. He’s glad he is now.

Whizzer pouts, and Jason smiles. “At least we don’t have to pay to, like, enter the house,” Jason supplies. “We can stop here for free.”

Whizzer nods at Jason considerately, and Jason beams. His dad doesn’t do so much of that with him. Whizzer feels like the filler they’ve both needed for a long time.

“You’re right, I should be charging! However much money it costs, please and thank you,” Marvin says at once, earning him a playful groan from Whizzer and a laugh from Jason.

“$280, Marv. What, don’t you study your spot on the board? I’m shocked,” says Whizzer. Jason barely has time to marvel that  _ Whizzer _ has studied the spot sharing his dad’s name. He barely has time to wonder if that means that Whizzer loves him. Barely.

And Marvin smiles at Whizzer, a look Jason knows but is less acquainted with in his eyes. It’s a look Jason’s craved from his father for years. But, rather than smiling back, Whizzer tenses. He breaks eye contact and looks at the floor. And Marvin’s face falls, and Jason actually thinks he might feel bad for him.

Whizzer still engages eagerly with Jason, for which he’s grateful. Jason hasn’t had this much conversation at his dad’s place in longer than he can remember. But Whizzer is more tense with Marvin, more careful. Jason thinks it might be breaking his dad’s heart. He pretends not to notice. He does.

Not long after, Jason is sent to sleep. He hears an argument through the walls of his room, he hears his dad yelling and Whizzer yelling right back. He doesn’t know what it’s about, nor does he want to. He hears his dad storm upstairs, he hears the door slam. Jason lies in the darkness of his room for a few minutes, conflicted thoughts warring in his head. Eventually, he stands up, quietly steps out of his room, and tip-toes down the stairs.

Whizzer is still there, as Jason thought he would be. He’s finishing off a glass of champagne, or wine, or something. He’s about to speak when he realizes something he didn’t expect.

Whizzer was crying. Jason didn’t know Whizzer did that. He thought Whizzer was perfect, although he realizes that was a stupid assumption to make. Whizzer isn’t facing him, Whizzer doesn’t know he’s there. But Jason hears him sniffle quietly and his hands move to his face, brushing away tears that come. Jason hears him swear as he puts down the glass, looking up at the ceiling. And now Jason feels bad for Whizzer, too.

Jason can’t leave Whizzer like that, even though he’s sure Whizzer would want him to. Instead, he goes up to him and hugs him. Whizzer gives a start before hugging him back. Jason can’t see his face, but he feels Whizzer growing flustered.

“I didn’t know you were up,” he says quietly, running a hand through Jason’s hair and letting go of him. Whizzer doesn’t look like he’s crying, but he brushes his hand across his face just in case.

“I heard you and my dad fighting,” Jason says simply. “Couldn’t sleep.” Whizzer looks apologetic, and Jason accepts the unspoken apology. Whizzer smiles down at him, although it looks strained.

“Sorry,” Whizzer says quickly. Jason can tell this apology isn’t for the fight, but more for the state Jason found him in. Jason doesn’t care.

He looks up at Whizzer, considering for a moment before reminding himself to stop considering what he says, to stop thinking everything over because that’s exactly what his dad does. “Why are you still together? If you aren’t happy?”

Whizzer just stares at Jason. He purses his lips, thinking. Eventually, he answers carefully, “I like your dad. I like him a lot. I can deal with a little fighting.”

Jason doesn’t think that’s a good enough excuse. He thinks that if Whizzer  _ loved  _ him, then maybe he could begin to understand. But he doesn’t. He nods nonetheless, and when Whizzer tells him he should go back up to bed, he does.

Whizzer isn’t there when Jason wakes up again. He doesn’t always stay the night, he doesn’t live there. But Jason mulls over what Whizzer told him, and he doesn’t say anything to his father. His father doesn’t say anything to him, either. He seems preoccupied, preoccupied with Whizzer. Preoccupied in a way that Jason would never recognize for himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back i'm back i'm gay and i'm back
> 
> welcome to this chapter that is the entire reason i kept marvin's last name as gardens because i as a writer refuse to pass up the opportunity to make that joke also whizzer :,(
> 
> this update took a lil while and I'm sorry!! just started online school so i genuinely don't know what an update schedule is going to look like but I'll try to not keep you waiting too long
> 
> blm! go sign a petition (go. shoo. now.) to support! and remember to wear a mask and be careful, especially if you're doing in person school!
> 
> comments and kudos mean everything & i'd be so grateful to hear your thoughts on this chapter! if you wanna be my best bud reach out @terrorandbliss on twitter
> 
> love you guys, see ya next time!


	11. it depends on the day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is no feasible way that Whizzer has caught feelings for Marvin. The idea is laughable. Absolutely impossible. And the concept of being in love? Definitely not. Probably.

Marvin and Whizzer are sitting side by side on Marvin’s couch. It’s one of the rare occasions where neither of them has a drink in front of them, where no amount of alcohol can be blamed on anything to follow. Marvin is staring at the ceiling, his hands in his hair. Whizzer is watching him silently, waiting for him to speak.

What Marvin does end up saying catches Whizzer by surprise. “What am I doing?”

Whizzer answers immediately. “Running for president.”

Marvin stares at him, and they lock eyes. Whizzer recognizes a desperate man in the blue eyes he’s grown more accustomed than he’s willing to admit. Whizzer recognizes a father who needs to connect with his son, and beyond that, the entire world.

Marvin doesn’t respond, nor does he break eye contact. Okay. Whizzer recognizes this needs more than a surface answer. “You’re campaigning.” Marvin groaned at the lack of response, but Whizzer hurried to continue. “No, listen to me! You’re campaigning, and that’s not easy. You’re making it through and getting us through the best we could ask you to.”

This is more than Whizzer usually says. Any comfort he supplies is usually nonexistent. But he can see Marvin needs it. He can make an exception. As long as he doesn’t catch feelings, even though Whizzer’s sure he already has. He pretends he hasn’t.

“I’m not here, though. I should be here.” Whizzer knows what sparked this. Whizzer knows that Jason was here just the day previous, and that the father and son’s relationship was growing even more strained by the day. Whizzer knows Marvin wants there to be more. Whizzer knows Jason does, too, although Jason doesn’t want Whizzer to tell his dad that.

“You can’t have it all,” Whizzer says. He means this to be helpful, but it comes out cold. Marvin looks hurt. He starts to correct himself, but he doesn’t. He lets the comment sit, waiting for Marvin’s response.

“Can you at least  _ try _ to work with me for once?” Marvin asks. He sounds upset. Whizzer tries very hard not to care.

“I am. While you’re in this campaign, you’re not going to have as much time for us as you’d like. You can’t have both things perfect, and I don’t think you realize that yet,” he fires back. He knows another fight is coming.

Marvin looks like he’s going to respond in a fury, and Whizzer braces himself. He doesn’t say anything, letting the words sit for a moment. Then, for the first time, it drops. For once, Marvin doesn’t argue. For once, he recognizes that Whizzer is right.

“Then what am I supposed to do?” he asks desperately. Whizzer looks at him, and he considers how to answer.

“Talk to them,” he says vaguely. He doesn’t say anything else, he doesn’t think he can. This is Marvin’s life, and Whizzer can’t help him through everything.

When Whizzer says this, he doesn’t expect Marvin to listen to him. He expects a fight to follow, because a fight always follows. But it doesn’t. And over the course of the next week, Whizzer is left with no conclusion to make other than Marvin actually took in what he had to say.

He talks to everyone. Charlotte and Cordelia first, even though they’ve barely met. But, even still, he talks to them and levels with them. Whizzer watches the doubt he knows they had about Marvin begin to fade, slowly but surely.

Whizzer doesn't know what happens when Marvin goes to therapy. At first, he doubts it was anything, that the stint with Charlotte and Cordelia was performative at best. But next time Whizzer sees them together, they’re polite. A little tense, sure, but better than he’s seen them before.

Whizzer watches these interactions with pride and dread prominent in his mind. Proud, because Marvin’s actually fixing things. Proud, because Whizzer didn’t think he could and yet he’s  _ trying _ . Just like he tried to fix his career when Whizzer helped him. The dread comes in there, because Whizzer now cannot ignore his involvement with Marvin. If Marvin didn’t care about Whizzer, he wouldn’t have taken his advice this far. But Marvin’s not allowed to care about Whizzer. And Whizzer caring about Marvin? Out of the question. The only problem is that Whizzer can’t exactly remember why it is.

And the next Friday, Marvin’s stressing. Whizzer hasn’t seen him this nervous before, he realizes. It’s kind of endearing. But not in a way that implies Whizzer has feelings, because he doesn’t.

Marvin is raking his fingers through his hair, Whizzer by his side. Whizzer’s arm is around Marvin, his other hand rubbing his leg consolingly. Whizzer sees more of Marvin than he ever has before. He isn’t sure if he wants to or not.

“How do you talk to him so easily?” Marvin asks out of the blue. Whizzer knows he’s talking about Jason. Whizzer doesn’t know that he has an answer.

“I’m not his dad,” Whizzer says eventually. “We don’t need to be father and son, we just need to coexist.” And he thinks this is true enough. He doesn’t need to be Jason’s dad. Marvin does. And Marvin still looks desperate, so Whizzer adds on quickly. “He loves you.”

Marvin looks conflicted, but doesn’t challenge it. Whizzer once again wonders why he’s doing this. And then wonders why his immediate response is because he loves Marvin. Because he doesn’t, obviously. Because he can’t. And he wonders if the fact that he has to convince himself that’s true is telling. He pretends it’s not.

Marvin looks like he’s going to say something else, but the doorbell interrupts him. Jason and Trina are here. Whizzer gives Marvin a little squeeze before releasing him. Marvin goes to the door, Whizzer waits.

In a minute or so, Jason comes in the room. He looks a little confused, but smiles when he sees Whizzer. He hugs him, and is already pulling out his chessboard when he sits down. Whizzer laughs but doesn’t object.

“How are you?” Whizzer asks. Jason’s already pulled out the board, putting pieces down. Whizzer grabs some, realizing quickly he doesn’t know where they go. Jason points to places, answering Whizzer’s question all the while.

“I’m okay,” Jason says. “School sucks.” He continues putting pieces on the board.

Whizzer laughs. “That it does,” he says, putting the last few pawns out on his side of the board. Jason’s already done. “Want to talk about it?”

“I don’t know,” Jason says honestly. Whizzer wracks his brain to remember what piece he’s supposed to move first. He knows Jason told him last week. “People keep asking about my dad.”

Whizzer looks away from the board, nodding. “I get that. I wouldn’t want everyone talking about it constantly if it were me. Which it will be, whenever we go public.” Whizzer sighs, and Jason looks up at him with interest. “It’s not wrong to be tired of it, you know.”

Jason just looks at him. Whizzer gives a soft little smile, moving one of the pieces closer to Jason’s side one space forward, hoping he was doing it right. It takes Jason a moment to realize Whizzer’s moved, and he looks down at the board. “You know you can move two spaces, right?”

Whizzer stares at Jason for a second, uncomprehending, before giving a start and hastily moving another square. “I did that intentionally, obviously. Trying to see if you’d notice.”

Jason laughs, and Whizzer does, too. Jason moves his own pawn. The game continues.

They play in comfortable silence for a while, interrupted only by Jason correcting Whizzer’s moves (“Rooks can’t move on diagonals, Whizzer,”) and Whizzer quickly covering his tracks with a grin. Eventually, Jason brings up something else.

“Do you have anything planned for Sunday?” Jason asks.

Whizzer is staring at the piece in his hand - a knight, he thinks, although it looks more like a horse - and trying to remember how he’s supposed to move it. He looks up at Jason finally, brows furrowed. “No, I wasn’t expecting to be here. Should I?”

“Well, I mean, it’s my dad’s birthday. And knights move in  _ L _ shapes,” Jason supplies.

Whizzer looks at him in confusion for a minute. “Oh, right.” He’s not sure which comment he’s responding to, although it’s probably both. He moves the knight quickly without thinking much about it, and Jason immediately captures it.

Whizzer isn’t surprised Marvin didn’t mention his birthday to him. He considers what he’s supposed to do, especially considering the fact that they can’t even say what their relationship is ( _ not _ boyfriends). He considers briefly before answering Jason, inventing as he goes.

“We can probably go out for dinner or something, to start. Some nice place, we’ll figure it out,” he says. It’s not much of a plan, and it’s not easy to resist having some huge spectacle, but that’s off the table. Doing anything too big might give the illusion that he cares about Marvin. Which he does, he’s realized, but is not something he plans on admitting.

Jason nods, and Whizzer realizes he’s supposed to move. He glances at the pieces that have been taken of his, and the pitiful amount he’s gotten from Jason. He hastily moves a rook, something he remembers from earlier in the game. Jason moves almost at once. Impressive, for a kid about a third of his age.

Marvin reenters the room now. He looks relieved. He gives a soft smile when he sees Whizzer, telling him without words that the interaction went well. He ruffles Jason’s hair as he walks over and gives Whizzer a soft kiss on the cheek. Jason looks away pointedly, and Whizzer laughs, and Jason smiles, so Marvin smiles, too.

“Your son is about to beat me at chess,” Whizzer explains, giving the board his attention again. He doesn’t have many pieces left to work with. He moves his remaining knight, and he must have done it correctly for once because Jason doesn’t object.

Or maybe that’s just because Jason was distracted by shouting, “Checkmate!”

And the day passes, and Whizzer doesn’t stay overnight. He considers it, as he usually does, but he doesn’t. They’ve spent the last few nights together, and what would they even do, with Jason home? Sometimes Whizzer could come back Saturday or Sunday and spend time with Marvin and Jason, sometimes letting them spend time together on their own. Whizzer knows Marvin wants to spend more one-on-one time with Jason.

On Saturday, Whizzer doesn’t go to Marvin’s. He goes shopping. And when his day is done, he goes home. He isn’t there for long before impulsively going to Marvin’s house. He isn’t sure why he is. It’s too late to do anything. He packs a change of clothes without even really comprehending he’s doing it.

Marvin seems happy that Whizzer’s here. Jason is already in his room when he arrives. And instead of sex, they just cuddle until they fall asleep. Whizzer doesn’t mind it, in fact, he thinks he might like it. He pretends he doesn’t.  _ It’s a special occasion _ , goes the mantra in his mind, the one that avoids any cohesive thought towards a relationship.  _ It’s for his birthday. Not after _ .

Whizzer could, theoretically, use Marvin’s birthday as an excuse to show a lot of affection he usually avoids. Declare it as a one day treat, knowing he doesn’t want it to be. He tries to decide if that’s what he wants to do, but he’s so comfortable in Marvin’s arms, and it’s so warm and cozy, and Whizzer’s asleep before he can really think it through.

Whizzer, Marvin, and Jason do end up going out for dinner. The meal is nice, and they’re able to keep stable conversation flowing, which counts for something. Marvin seems to enjoy it, so that’s something. When they’re done, Marvin thanks them, and they drop Jason off. Whizzer doesn’t mention that he’s going to stay at Marvin’s house again, but they both know he will.

When they get home, Whizzer sits Marvin down on the couch. “Okay,” he begins, standing in front of him. “This is something I knew I was going to do from the moment I met you.”

Marvin looks intrigued. He looks up at Whizzer, arm resting on the back of the couch. Whizzer doesn’t elaborate. Instead, he sings.

Channeling the spirit of Marilyn Monroe herself, he begins a vaguely impressive imitation of her performance. “ _ Happy birthday to you _ .” He says every word deliberately and slowly, a raspy and seductive quality about it.

“ _ Happy birthday to you _ ,” his gaze doesn’t leave Marvin. Marvin is giving him his full attention.

“ _ Happy birthday, Mr. President _ ,” he continues with a smirk, edging closer. Marvin smiles.

“ _ Happy birthday to you _ ,” he concludes, ending the song with a kiss, deep and slow. Marvin kisses back, and for a moment, they fall into it. Whizzer almost forgets to convince himself he’s not in love.

When they pull apart, Marvin’s face is still very close to Whizzers. “That was good,” he says, a little breathlessly. Whizzer laughs lightly, not moving.

“I’ve been waiting my whole life to be with a presidential candidate so I get to do that,” he says, smiling. He’s very careful not to say dating. Marvin kisses him again.

“Glad to be of service,” he replies easily. Whizzer grins.

Whizzer wishes he can pretend a birthday is a good enough excuse to fall in love. But he can’t, so he decides instead to pretend he’s not in love, because Whizzer doesn’t fall in love. Although he doesn’t plan on telling Marvin any of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooh boy this was a long one!!
> 
> whizzer singing happy birthday in the style of marilyn monroe is something that i thought of like a month ago and i knew that i had to write,,, whizzer is a gigantic marilyn stan try to argue with me you can't
> 
> anyway.... i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!! this is the end of the five chapters straight of whizzer pretending he doesn't have feelings, so we get a break from him next time; i hope you enjoyed the five session whizzer-has-feelings-haha-jk-unless fest!!
> 
> keep in mind that marvin is, unfortunately, not running for president irl - make sure if you're over 18 in America that you get out and VOTE anyway!! ur vote is v important and the election's getting close!! Black lives still matter, even if you're not still seeing it in your feed. use your voice!!
> 
> that's all for today!! let me know your thoughts in the comments and i will absolutely love you forever!! comments and kudos are SO appreciated, and if you want to be my friend, enemy, give me jobs, give me motivation, or obsess over falsettos with me hmu @terrorandbliss on twitter!! love you guys, peace out!!


	12. there's work to do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin visits Mendel again. Mendel is distracted, Marvin is worried.

Mendel was not looking forward for another session with Marvin Gardens. Maybe a week ago he would’ve been looking forward to it less. He’s still not looking forward to it.

There are a lot of things he would rather be doing than seeing Marvin. He would rather be seeing Marvin’s ex-wife, Trina. Although, to be fair, he’d rather be seeing Trina than doing a lot of things. He had kissed her the other day. She kissed him back. He wouldn’t be telling Marvin that.

Marvin had spoken with Mendel not so long ago. He’d apologized for a lot of necessary things, although Mendel wasn’t sure he’d carry them out. Marvin was a master of the politician lie, that was the result of many years in politics. It could just be a white lie, words with no consequence. Time would tell.

When Mendel could put off the session no more, Marvin was sitting on the couch opposite him. The clear tension was less present than before, which must count for something. Mendel doesn’t look at him right away, writing down something random and feeling Marvin’s gaze on him. Eventually, he turns to look at him.

“So, how have you been?” Mendel usually starts sessions with a generic question. He can get more specific later, or let Marvin take it in a certain direction.

Marvin doesn’t warrant this with a response, merely shrugging.  _ Great _ . Mendel considers for a moment how to proceed, checking his notes. He gets a little distracted when he sees what he wrote down for Trina’s session as he scrolls through his notes. He realizes he’s zoned out after a moment, and can feel Marvin’s gaze on him again. He doesn’t have time to consider what he’s about to say, so he says the first thing to come to mind.

“How’s Trina? After you spoke with her, I mean.” He adds the last part very quickly. He didn’t mean to ask about Trina already, but he supposes it can’t come as a surprise he did.

Marvin looks skeptical at the immediate mention of Trina, but doesn’t mention it. Mendel is grateful he doesn’t.

“She was good about it. Better than she should’ve been, honestly, given that I was shitty to her.” Mendel privately agrees. He waits to see if Marvin continues. He does. “I don’t… I don’t love her like that. She knows I don’t, but I don’t think she’s really comprehended it.”

Mendel nods, fumbling with his pen. “What do you mean?”

Marvin considers, looking at Mendel. Mendel doesn’t look at him. He’s scared eye contact will reveal too much. “She’s really sweet, and she cares a lot. Which is good. But it feels like she’s spent her time following me and… I don’t know, I’m grateful, I guess, but…” he struggles to put it into words.

“Do you want her to move on?” Mendel poses the question. He tries to act less interested in the answer than he is.

Marvin is quiet for a moment. “I don’t know. I know I can’t stop her doing it, and she  _ deserves _ to have another shot, but… I don’t know.” Mendel nods considerately. He leaves the subject be for now.

“What about Jason?” Mendel asks. He knows Marvin had taken it upon himself to talk to both of them since their last session. He knows Marvin was terrified about talking to Jason. From Jason’s sessions, Mendel had hope that Jason would react positively.

Marvin bit his lip and furrowed his brows. “Impassive, mostly. I think he was trying to act like he cared less than he did. Kept saying it was no big deal, but I don’t think that’s true.” That made sense, mostly, to Mendel. Understanding what could help Jason had been much easier to him than understanding what would help Marvin (or any of his clients, for that matter). More from Marvin snaps Mendel out of his reverie. “I could be so much better for him. I’m never here, not really. I want to be, but I want this campaign.”

“You’re winning your campaign right now, though.” Mendel only knows this because he Googled it last night. “It looks like most people are leaning toward you.”

Marvin nods, but he doesn’t look convinced. “There’s still the better part of a year until primaries. We have to actively campaign or we’re going to lose that momentum. And that just makes me less present than I could be.”

Mendel is used to this aspect of Marvin, the part of him that bites off more than he can chew. He wants everything, he wants too much, and despite how hard they try to work through it, it always comes back. Mendel wonders absently if another psychiatrist could’ve helped him by now. He decides he’d rather not think about that.

“What would becoming president mean?” Mendel asks. The question is vaguely related, but startles Marvin. He stares, uncomprehending, until Mendel elaborates. “I mean, you’d be in D.C.. What happens to Jason? Trina? Whizzer?”

Marvin considers this for quite some time. Mendel guesses he hasn’t thought of it as much as he should have. Eventually, he gives a slow answer.

“Well, D.C. is only three hours from here. Which is less than ideal, I know, but we can make it work. Or they could stay there for a while. I don’t know. Trina and I have kind of been avoiding discussing it, honestly.”

Mendel nods slowly. Carefully, he asks, “And Whizzer?”

Marvin stares at the wall beyond Mendel. “I don’t know what he wants. He’s made it very clear he doesn’t want to settle down or anything. And, I mean, he’s agreed to go public eventually, although he’s clearly putting it off. I don’t know what winning would mean for us.”

“What do you  _ want _ it to mean?” Mendel doesn’t ask the question because he thinks it’ll help anything. He only asks because he doesn’t know what else to say. Whizzer is something that he’s sure will be just as much a mystery to Mendel as he appears to be to Marvin.

Marvin doesn’t hesitate so much this time. This, Mendel thinks, Marvin has thought about. “I want him to stay with me in the White House. Can you imagine that? Whizzer, loose in the White House?” Mendel laughs appreciatively. That  _ would _ be a sight to see. “But I want to do this with him. And I know Trina would want to stay in New York, and she’d insist Jason stays with her most of the time. She’d say I’ll be too busy running the country to take care of him. I at least want Whizzer there. I don’t want to do this alone.”

And that’s real, Mendel realizes. This is  _ real _ . Marvin could just become the president of the United States. He could just live in the White House. And being there alone is a very real fear. Mendel can’t really understand the immensity of that feeling. He tries to figure out how to advise Marvin on how to go about working through his relationships, to getting something to work out. He doesn’t do it well, and Mendel knows Marvin isn’t actually considering anything he’s saying. He’s distracted by the thought of losing both Whizzer and Jason, and maybe even Trina, too. Mendel wonders vaguely if Marvin would miss him when he’s in Washington, D.C. He doubts it, but he wonders anyway.

They stumble through the rest of the session. Marvin’s conflicts aren’t resolved by the end of the meeting, so Mendel supposes it’s a fail in the psychiatry department, but he finds himself not caring as much as he should once Marvin leaves his office and his mind returns again to Trina.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow two days in a row of updates who am i?? lol i was writing instead of focusing during math class
> 
> uhh hi!! I'm not as happy with mendel's characterization as i am with. idk. literally anyone else. but hopefully these chapters aren't too difficult to get thru lmaoo
> 
> here's a fun thing to do in your free time: just IMAGINE whizzer living in the white house. just think abt it for a lil. it is truly the most amusing thought i can think of
> 
> Black lives still matter!! use your voice; no justice no peace; silence is violence. it's up to us to get justice, and we can do that by speaking out and VOTING this november
> 
> love you guys! i'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter, let me know in the comments!! find me on twitter @terrorandbliss to be my friend or enemy or really just have any relation to me lmao. comments and kudos are wildly appreciated, thank you so much!! peace out


	13. it's like a nightmare

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trina is stuck contemplating about Marvin again. What now would make everything so genuine? Trina doesn't know.

Trina had spent the time since her and Marvin’s discussion ignoring most of its contents. Marvin had apologized for the way he treated her before. Marvin had said he was going to change and work to actively be a part of her life before. A few months after that they’d divorced. No, Trina had no reason to believe Marvin would strive for change.

What was different about now than then? That was a question she supposed she should be asking herself. The easiest answer was their marriage. Before, their marriage had depended on that conversation being had, and others like it, as well. What was a motive now? She couldn’t see how his apology would rank in more votes for the candidacy. But, then again, it was Marvin, and Marvin always had a plan. She couldn’t believe this was genuine.

Marvin was a messy game she’d played for years. He was rarely sentimental with her unless it benefited him, she knew that. And what would cause that to change?  _ Whizzer _ ? Trina didn’t  _ want _ to believe that. The truth of the matter was that she liked Whizzer, she couldn’t hate him if she tried (and she did), but the idea that he could be doing all this of her ex-husband was alarming. No, it was much more comfortable to pretend that there was no change. Nothing had proved it lately, anyway. Their exchanges had been tense on the weekends since, although Trina had been spending less time at Marvin’s lately after dropping Jason off. You could attribute this to a number of things, including not wanting to see Whizzer and Marvin together in addition to not wanting to tell Marvin about the relationship quickly forming between herself and Mendel Weisenbachfeld. 

Trina had been seeing Mendel for a few weeks now. She hadn’t expected much to come out of it at first. It had been messy flirting for months on end until they’d kissed. They’d gone on dates since, too. Trina  _ liked _ Mendel. Their relationship felt different than hers had with Marvin already, in a way she was pretty sure she liked. Marvin wouldn’t be happy about it, though, that was for sure. A part of her just wanted to tell him, to spite him for the months she’d had to watch his relationship with Whizzer. He could get upset, but she's dealt with it. He could, too. But, no, Trina wasn’t going to do that. She wasn’t going to confide her new relationship out of spite.

It’d taken Marvin months to introduce Trina and Whizzer. Months until the dinner, where Whizzer had agreed to go public and avoided eye contact with Marvin for the meal. At the time, she hadn’t been sure why, or why to avoid going public for so long. She understood the caution Marvin could have for it, because he was coming out to the entire world, but it didn’t make sense to her why Whizzer was so against it. It was so secret that he was gay - apparent, she would argue, from the moment you laid eyes on him. From what she could tell of Whizzer, he  _ liked _ the attention. Why not go public? It was the one thing not quite adding up.

She thought back to the dinner again. Instead, to the end, where she’d spoken with Whizzer alone.  _ Why _ had she done that? She didn’t need to advise Whizzer on his relationship with Marvin, let alone encourage him to stay with it. But Whizzer was  _ nice _ , and Jason liked Whizzer, and maybe it was just the fact that Whizzer deserved something nice. Preserving an ex’s relationship maybe wasn’t her best course of action, but maybe Whizzer would be happy. Except he wasn’t, because she knew he didn’t want to go public.

Maybe thinking Whizzer’s want to keep it private wasn’t something that should immediately be judged. The public eye is difficult to get used to, Trina had learned that. Jason had, too, she knew. Her association with Marvin wasn’t something the world would just forget about. If something happened, this would follow Whizzer in the same way it followed her — another similarity between her and her husband’s new lover. Was the term  _ maybe-boyfriend _ still appropriate? It seemed so. It also seemed like something they should’ve worked out a long time ago.

Maybe that was the reason why Trina had said what she had said to Whizzer. Maybe it was pity, maybe she understood Whizzer a little more than she wanted to. In fact, she was confident it was that — she recognized so much of herself in what she was seeing of him. So much of being driven insane by Marvin, and yet staying with him. Trina isn’t sure if she loved Marvin or stayed with him for Jason anymore. She is sure Whizzer loves him, though. Not that Whizzer would admit it. But maybe she can try to help Whizzer be happy, because maybe she didn’t like seeing Whizzer upset. It felt too much like watching herself.

Jason came home, then, which is something that could snap her from her stupor. She was in the kitchen, her hands against the sink. She heard the door and knew Jason would come in momentarily to say hello. She waited.

“Hey, Mom,” Jason says, just as she expected. It’s the schedule she’s grown accustomed to. She turns and smiles like she does every day.

“Hey, sweetie. How was school?” She doesn’t expect an answer. She doesn’t usually get much of one. Lately, there’s been more to his answers than she’s used to, and she’s glad for that. She wonders if Jason knows more about her thought process than she thinks.

Jason nods. “It was okay. Had a math test, which was unfortunate, but aside from that it was fine.” He drops his bag down. Trina continues the conversation, trying to prolong it, trying to connect with her son like she does every time he comes home from school.

“How do you think you did?” She asks kindly, smiling down at him. Jason looks up, a twinge of annoyance on his face.

“I don’t  _ know _ how I did. Grades will come out… I don’t actually know, honestly. Whenever my teacher decides to grade them,” he replies. “I’m going upstairs.”

“Okay, love you.” Trina nods and smiles, Jason turns on his heel. Another lost interaction between mother and son. Maybe they’ll talk later. Maybe they won’t. Trina’s not quite sure.

Trina’s not sure about a lot of things. She’s not sure about her son, or her ex-husband, or her ex-husband’s lover (that seemed like an appropriate term), or Mendel. But she pretends she is anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ur gift from me to you is a short chapter i don't particularly like BUT three chapters in three days!!! lol if we're lucky this will be done before election day.. imagine if the election day in the fic was irl election day wouldn't that be wild but also i have no schedule so then again
> 
> anyways yeah just some trina introspection ig?? i had a plan for this chapter that i forgot so now it's basically a filler hello
> 
> uhh yeah i'd say less frequent updates because of school but i've been writing instead of focusing in class so. we'll see lmao
> 
> Black lives still matter!! don't let it completely vanish from your feed and continue having these important conversations. sign some petitions!! go!!
> 
> that's all!! lmk your thoughts in the comments, profess your love for me @terrorandbliss on twitter, and as always comments and kudos are SO appreciated. love you guys, see you next time!


	14. someone needed soothing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whizzer consults Charlotte and Cordelia again. He's not the biggest fan of their advice.

“You’re insane,” Charlotte says simply. Whizzer’s just finished another panicky rant, because he’s been giving more of those lately. Apparently Marvin mentioned going public again, and Whizzer has more misgivings on it than he’s been letting on. He’s sitting facing Cordelia on the couch, Charlotte on the arm beside her girlfriend.

“I’m  _ not _ ! I just don’t see what this will do. I mean, do we really have to go public? Like, is it really necessary?” Whizzer asks desperately. “Also, do you have wine?” he adds as an afterthought.

“You did agree to do it, like,  _ ages _ ago,” Cordelia reasoned. “And wine we can do. But talk to us first! Have a sober honest conversation for once.”

Whizzer groaned. “You’re no fun.” Cordelia chuckles, looking at him. Charlotte is silent. “I know I  _ said _ I would do it, but that doesn’t mean I want to. I didn’t expect to still be seeing him when we’d do it, anyway. Guess I pretended I could avoid it.”

“What’s so wrong with going public, then?” Cordelia asks. Charlotte braces herself for Whizzer’s response.

Whizzer exhales carefully, then beginning a list of reasons that it’s apparent he’s thought a lot about. “First of all, the relationship would become more official, and that would turn into a whole thing and commitment and… y’know, actual relationships.”

“Which are so bad because—?” Charlotte begins, but Whizzer holds a finger up.

“If I’m getting this out, we’re doing it all at once, okay?  _ Maybe _ I’ll take questions after.” Charlotte smirks to herself and nods. “And then I assume they’ll be a lot of homophobes that I don’t want to deal with. It’s bad enough now, but having the entire world know I’m gay and have an opinion on it is a very different thing.”

“I think they already know in that outfit,” Cordelia says very quickly. Whizzer simply glares at her as she laughs, following with a quick, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist.” Charlotte laughs, too, and Whizzer continues to glare for another minute before snapping back and continuing.

Finally, Whizzer continues. “And then, if I try to go to a bar, what if people recognize me? There’s plenty of guys who wouldn’t care if I had a boyfriend, but having a boyfriend who might become the president is different. No one wants the  _ president _ to have a grudge against them. So then I might be stuck with monogamy and I don’t want that!”

Charlotte and Cordelia shared a grimace. “I think you might be reading a little too far into this, Whizz,” Charlotte said softly. Whizzer looks up at her indignantly, and Charlotte almost regrets saying it at all.

“I’m not! This just… I don’t want this. Now, where’s the wine?” Whizzer replies shortly.

Cordelia glances over at Charlotte, who nods. They’d hoped Whizzer would have opened up a little more, although hadn’t really expected him to.

“You love him,” Cordelia says simply. Whizzer stares at her, conflict evident in his gaze. Charlotte pities him, just a little bit.

Whizzer is silent for another moment. They wait, looking at him. He deflects, asking simply, “Wine?”

“I think this is becoming a problem, Whizz,” Charlotte comments absently. He looks up at her.

“The wine or the l- Marvin?” Whizzer asks, catching himself from having to say the word. Charlotte smiles softly.

“Both. Not one more than the other,” she responds simply. Cordelia chuckles softly.

Whizzer waits expectantly, and Cordelia sighs. “Whizz, why are you so against this? You  _ know _ him, you’ve known him for a while now. Longer than you’ve known a guy before, unless I’m much mistaken.” Whizzer nods, not looking at her. “ _ So _ , why are you so afraid of letting him know you? Or, like, any commitment?”

“I don’t do that,” Whizzer says simply. “I don’t let people know me. It’s easier that way.”

“We know you,” Cordelia argues. “We didn’t stop hanging out with you cause we know you.”

Whizzer looks at Cordelia, some kind of desperation in his gaze. “Other people have. Just got lucky with you.” And he looks so  _ pitiful _ , and no one says anything.

And Charlotte just can’t take it anymore. “Whizzer, I love you, okay?” Both her girlfriend and Whizzer look back at her. “But that was  _ one _ guy. And it was ages ago. And Marvin’s different.”

“Is he?” The misery in his voice would have been laughable in another situation. It isn’t here, though. It’s just sad.

“ _ Yes _ ,” both of them say in unison. It’s true, mostly. Both girls have some to trust Marvin, especially post their discussion of a few weeks prior, because it felt  _ honest _ . And it was easy to see that he cared about Whizzer. Easier, still, to see Whizzer cared about him. The hard part was getting him to admit it.

Whizzer sighed, looking dazedly into the lesbians’ roaring fireplace. “He wants to do it in a month. Go public, I mean. And I’ve put it off for, what four now? Maybe I owe him that.” He’s silent for a moment. Charlotte and Cordelia wait with baited breath. “I just don’t want to get any more fucked up ‘cause of him.”

“You won’t,” Cordelia says quietly. “He loves you, too, you know.”

This may have been the wrong direction to go in, Charlotte realizes. Whizzer locks eyes with her quickly. “I don’t want him to love me. I don’t want him to care about me. I shouldn’t have done this. I should just, like… leave him. Avoid that whole mess.”

“You’re not going to leave him, Whizz,” Char says shortly. “That’s been apparent since day one.”

Whizzer groans. “What if something happens? He could hate me, or the world could hate me. I don’t want to be this universal guy that everyone hates.”

And now Cordelia has to laugh. “Whizzer, you are like, the  _ least _ hate-able person I know.”

“Yeah, but I’m also arguably the gayest person you know. Those aren’t synonyms for everyone, Dee,” Whizzer reasons. Charlotte doesn’t say anything, she just considers. “Now, I feel like I’ve been questioned enough to warrant that wine?”

“Ugh!” Charlotte gives in and finally pours him some wine at long last. “Admit you love him,” Char says, handing him the glass.

“No,” Whizzer says simply, taking a large swallow of the drink.

Neither Charlotte nor Cordelia press the point much further. And it doesn’t take much to get Whizzer drunk, which turns into a whole new game to play. And Charlotte takes him next door, because she doesn’t even trust him to walk straight, and that’s where she actually gets something.

He stops walking, standing in place. He’s uneasy, Charlotte keeps her arm around him. “Fuck, Char. You’re right. Y’know- y’know, you were right. I do love him.  _ Fuck _ , Charlie. Wh- what the fuck do I do?”

And Charlotte laughs a little, and she gets Whizzer to his room, and she says simply, “I’ll tell you when you’re sober.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> guys i am on a ROLL!! four chapters in four days who am i!!
> 
> i feel like i just wrote this and here it is!! on the internet!! also it's another whizzer town segment so there are *checks notes* i actually think he's in all of them until the end lmao?? which is inching nearer which is terrifying
> 
> umm last time i posted a lesbian chapter i summoned all the lesbians to the comments so welcome back lesbians be my best friends solidarity
> 
> Black lives matter!! Use your voice and speak out, now more importantly than ever. go sign some petitions and call out your racist family members!!
> 
> that's all!! comments and kudos are SO appreciated, let me know your thoughts, find me @terrorandbliss on twitter, love you guys!! see you next time (in which they will def not be going public.. wink wink)


	15. the life of a normal child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whizzer and Marvin go public. Jason isn't sure how he's supposed to feel about that.

Jason can’t really make sense of much right now, the thing clearest to him is that his dad is in a panic.

Whizzer is, too, for the most part, except Whizzer excels at hiding when he’s panicking. If Jason didn’t know him as well as he did, he might think Whizzer was perfectly calm. He wonders absently whether Marvin thinks he’s perfectly calm. He doubts it.

What Whizzer is doing instead of obviously panicking is attempting to stop Marvin from freaking out (although, it might be a little late for that). Marvin and Whizzer had talked to Jason about what was going on today, so Jason knew that, at long last, they were going public. Coming out. He doesn’t really understand why it took that long, but apparently not everyone will like that they’re together. Jason wildly underestimates how much that would affect him.

“Shh,” Jason can hear Whizzer saying, his hands on Marvin’s arms, holding him steady. “It’ll be okay, Marv. You don’t even  _ really _ have to say anything. Just hold my hand, okay?”

Jason is impressed, judging by how it had taken Whizzer so long to even agree to go public at all. He doesn’t know why Whizzer’s suddenly the one encouraging his dad, but he supposes that someone has to do it. Jason’s not going to.

“What if this all falls apart?” Marvin asks. He sounds scared. He and Whizzer make eye contact. Jason looks away, pretending he isn’t eavesdropping on their every word.

Whizzer sighs, smoothing out Marvin’s suit. Jason guesses it’s a suit Whizzer picked out for him (a memorable conversation the day before included the phrase,  _ “You can’t be a gay president in  _ that _ outfit,” _ ) and this is reinforced by the fact that he looks  _ good _ . He usually looks somewhat out of place, but he doesn’t today. Jason would guess he feels more out of place than usual, though. The world works in mysterious ways.

“It’s not going to fall apart. Everyone’s going to be happy, and it’s going to be great.” Whizzer sounds like he’s convincing himself. He seems to realize this, as he continues. “There’s never going to be a world in which everyone loves you, and it certainly isn’t going to be now. But I can promise that not everyone’s going to hate you. That’s worth something.”

Marvin sighs. Neither of them speak, and when Jason catches a glance, he sees their foreheads are pressed together, both listening. There’s some amount of news stations outside, ones that will see Whizzer and Marvin together when they leave and ask about Whizzer and Marvin being together. And Jason’s job is to smile and pretend that this doesn’t mean anything to him.

Does this mean something to Jason? That’s an entirely new question to ask. Jason hasn’t really allowed himself to think about it that much. His parents have been divorced for over a year, this is normal. Jason doesn’t think he’s allowed to be upset over it. And yet, he is, just a little. He doesn’t know entirely why. But at least it’s Whizzer. At least he likes Whizzer. It could’ve turned out a lot worse.

There’s also the fact of Trina and Mendel that Jason has to consider. Neither have told Jason that they’re together, but Jason isn’t stupid. He can tell. And he doesn’t know how he feels about that, either. He decides that it’s better not to think about, to put off coping and accepting it until he absolutely has to. Selfishly, he hopes he won’t have to.

Interrupting him from his stupor is Marvin, smiling down at him. “You ready?” he asks simply, oblivious to any of the thoughts coursing through Jason’s mind. And rather than tell them what those thoughts are, he nods and follows Marvin to the door.

They grab hands. Whizzer gives Jason a pat on the shoulder and Marvin’s hand a squeeze. Whizzer looks flustered, Marvin pale. They exhale and go outside.

There are a few news vans, enough to cause a scene. Enough to be national news tomorrow, undoubtedly. Jason doesn’t comprehend being a part of national news as if it’s happening to himself, he never has before. It feels like watching someone else’s life.

They are asked, outright, whether they’re in a relationship, because the news has never been known for tact. And they lock eyes, and Whizzer gives a mixture of grimace and smile, and Marvin confirms. And that’s that. It’s done. The culmination of ten (nine? Whizzer says it’s nine) months of a relationship, a relationship the entire world will be aware of, now. All three are eager to leave the outdoors. Despite it being January, it feels very hot.

When Jason goes into school the next day, it strikes him just how much this affects him. People whisper and point, which isn’t entirely unheard of, but already feels different than before. Tiffany Axelrod is refusing to even talk to him. Suffice it to say, it’s less than ideal. He wishes offhandedly that things were normal for him. But they aren't. Never have been, and never will be.

Some teachers have obvious bias, too. A lot of them seem to pity him and the attention he’s getting. Or maybe they pity the fact that he has a gay dad. He isn’t really sure. He doesn’t care as much as he should. Other teachers seem uncomfortable and tense. Jason pretends not to notice.

He comes home, and his mom seems out of it. Mendel’s over, which isn’t unusual nowadays, and they’re sitting at the table together. He’s rubbing her back consolingly. And Jason’s had enough of his parents’ relationships this week, so he avoids them as much as he can. He thinks his dismissal might upset his mom. He doesn’t really care.

The week goes by in a similar fashion. The whispers subside, mostly. Tiffany asks him for a pencil once, but she seemed desperate enough that it might not really count. She hasn’t looked him in the eye yet, though, so maybe not something to celebrate. A few people seem indifferent by the end of the week. Others don’t. Jason tries to get by.

Over the course of the next few weeks, Jason notices little changes with Whizzer and Marvin, too. To start, Whizzer spends just about all of his time at his dad’s apartment, now. Jason doesn’t completely realize this until Whizzer’s stuff starts appearing in the house. It continues, slowly but surely, until Jason is convinced that Whizzer’s moved in. He hasn’t been told that, though, just like he hasn’t been told that Trina and Mendel are together. He wishes someone would talk to him before just… doing. But they won’t.

At least Whizzer and Mendel are still nice to him, though. Jason thinks he might prefer them over his real parents. Is that selfish? Probably. He doesn’t care. And that’s probably selfish, too. But he does have to consider that doing all of this without talking to him was selfish on their part, so he thinks he can have this.

Whizzer still seems tense with Marvin. They fight a lot, and Whizzer still gets him out of the room, which Jason supposes is better than being in the middle of things like he used to be when his mom and dad were married. Jason remembers, vaguely, Whizzer’s offhand comments on not wanting to commit, on not wanting to be in this forever. Look where that’s got him.

All in all, people are changing. Everyone is changing. Jason just wants someone to have warned him first.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! sorry it's been a hot min since an update!! but whizzer did a thing!! we are proud!! but jason!! i don't have the uwu emoji on my chromebook but pretend its here!!
> 
> also "you can't be a gay president in that outfit" is truly the most iconic thing i've ever written thanks!! AND 10 more chapters until this is over?? that's insane omg
> 
> if you are 18+ in america, PLEASE vote. november third, if you didn't already get an absentee, pleeeaaassseee go in person! we need your vote SO badly. please vote. i'm absolutely terrified for what will happen to our country if you don't. and, of course - black lives matter and always will. breonna taylor STILL has not gotten justice. STILL. if you don't see how that's an issue, you're part of the problem.
> 
> that's all for now folks!! comments and kudos are SO appreciated and invaluable - let me know your thoughts on this chapter!! come hunt me down on my newly active twitter @terrorandbliss because i would love nothing more than to be your greatest friend!! thanks, love you guys, and i'll see you next time!!


	16. i can think it through myself

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Going public is a terrifying and consuming thing, Whizzer and Marvin very quickly learn.

“Running for president is the most stressful thing I could have possibly chosen to do,” says Marvin. He sounds tired. He is tired, Whizzer knows that. Who knew coming out would take this much  _ energy _ ?

To be fair, it’s not only the coming out that’s exhausting. The whole campaign is. But having the entire world having an opinion on your sexuality is something Whizzer wasn’t as prepared for as he should have been. And, not like he would admit it to Marvin, but it’s scary, too. That’s probably why Whizzer has, for all intents and purposes, moved in with Marvin. There’s no other reason.

And that’s not true. Whizzer knows that isn’t true. There’s no point pretending he doesn’t love Marvin, because he does. Or, an amendment, there’s no point lying to himself. He’ll absolutely keep lying to Marvin. Or, if Marvin says he loves Whizzer, then he’ll  _ absolutely _ freak out and God knows what would follow. Domestic, monogamous relationships are out of the question. Love used to be, but there’s nothing wrong with a little unrequited (because it  _ is _ unrequited).

“Worth it, though?” Whizzer asks, his head on his hand and looking up at Marvin.

Marvin merely hums in response. Whizzer edges closer for something to do before realizing that his eyes are a toxin and that Whizzer is  _ hooked _ on it. It’s too late to turn away now, though, so their eyes remain linked. His seem to sparkle as they’re fixated on each other.

“Do you think I have a chance here?” Marvin asks. He sounds a little breathless, which is unusual given that they’re only sitting on the couch. Whizzer laughs, and Marvin smiles at the sound reverberating from it.

He stops laughing and says, with all the sincerity that he can muster, “ _ Yes _ . I would’ve left you a long time ago if I didn’t. No point if I don’t get to live in the White House, is there?”

Marvin looks a little hurt, but he’s used to it. Instead, he just gives a chuckle, and Whizzer pretends not to feel sick.

“Not everyone’s happy,” Marvin says. Whizzer laughs again. Marvin doesn’t.

“You’ve been in politics longer than I have. You know as well as anyone that it’s impossible to have everyone happy. Quite frankly, I’m proud you pissed off a bunch of homophobes.” Marvin gives a weak chuckle. He looks away, dazedly staring at the rug. It’s a new rug, one that Whizzer had selected. He’d claimed artistic control of the apartment when he moved in.

Marvin sighs. “I want to win.” Whizzer’s about to give a comment to the effect of  _ of course you do _ , but Marvin presses on. “We lost some votes, y’know. When we came out. I’m not leading anymore. And now I have to double down on campaigning, and get more people to vote, and do random publicity stunts, and it is  _ so damn much _ . And I just… it’ll be worth it, if I win. But it’s kind of a pain in the ass until then. And then I have to prepare for the debates and everything, and then there’s you, here, and there’s Jason, and how on Earth am I supposed to manage all of that?”

Now he’s out of breath, and he has a reason this time, too. Marvin, careful goddamn Marvin, who thinks questions through for hours when asked and has the greatest poker face he’s ever seen - that Marvin, ranting and rambling to Whizzer. That  _ definitely _ means something. And the ramble in itself is cute, the way that he ran his fingers through his hair about twenty times is endearing. The coinciding panic isn’t, though. And their eyes meet again, and the single thought coursing through his head -  _ shit _ .

“I don’t- I don’t know,” Whizzer says helplessly. He stands up, rubbing his hands on his legs nervously. “I’m sorry, I don’t know. I- uh, I’m going to go.” Marvin looks alarmed. “I’ll be back in, like, I don’t  _ know _ . Bye.” Easily the most awkward Whizzer has been, especially with a guy he’s screwing. Cursing himself mentally, he tries to turn, but Marvin grabs his arm.

“Whizz? What’s going on?” Marvin asks. His grip isn’t tight, but it feels like it burns. Whizzer pulls him arm away quickly, stepping back. He isn’t thinking straight.

He retreats further to the door. Marvin doesn’t follow him, he looks concerned. “It’s fine. I’ll just… be right back.” And before Marvin can object again, he shuts the door, painfully aware he doesn’t have his keys or phone on him. Oh, well. He won’t need them.

He toys with the idea of going to a bar. He could use a drink, that much is sure. But the vivid reminder of what happened last time rings in his ears, and he stops outside the elevator, thinking. It’s much harder to find a hookup when the world is under the impression you’re dating a would-be president. Just like he had feared it would be. Another way that Marvin is beginning to control every aspect of his life.

He doesn’t go back to Charlotte and Cordelia’s now, either. He wasn’t lying when he said he would be back soon, because Whizzer has every intention of returning before the night is out, hopefully, before Marvin goes to sleep. Instead, he goes up.

The elevator door opens again on the roof of the entire complex. It’s pretty big, and he’s  _ far _ above the street below. He walks to the center and sits down, looking up. You can’t see many stars from New York, something that has always been Whizzer’s largest problem with the city. But he can see one, somewhere in the distance, and fixates on it. He breathes, exhaling at the single star.

Something that was always comforting to him was the idea that someone, somewhere, looking at these same stars had it the same way that he did. Some people had it worse. He wasn’t alone, at least. He wonders, now, how many people  _ can _ relate - the situation is unique in itself. But probably someone,  _ something _ similar. He can’t be the only one.

He changes the question a little, now. How many people staring at that star know his name? The question makes him feel vaguely sick. Attention is nice, he supposes, but maybe he hadn’t bargained on this. He didn’t bargain on anything with Marvin.

And he stays there for a little. The wind tousles his hair, and Whizzer breathes. And then he goes back down to Marvin’s apartment, where he doesn’t explain anything. As usual.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> mwah ha ha im back
> 
> uhm. hello. here's a chapter. you're welcome. we thought he did something,,, oh whizzer :( he'll commit sometime. maybe. probably. hopefully.
> 
> k gonna get a lil sappy for a sec bc I'm expecting this chapter to get me to 1000 hits which just. ohhh my god?? I'm so grateful for the insane support that this fic has been given, there's no way i'd still be writing without all of you and your kind comments. thank you all so much - i truly cannot believe how far this fic has come and i am thrilled to share it with you!!
> 
> hey you!! yes you!! are you 18+ in America?? i hope you're registered to vote!! go to vote.org and confirm your registration!! we need you to help us not be stuck for four more years in trump's america, and every vote counts. and, as always, remember - BLACK LIVES MATTER. the only charges for breonna are for the bullets that missed. we need to get her the justice she deserves. please go sign some petitions to get her and countless other wrongly killed or convicted black people justice.
> 
> that's all!! comments and kudos make me more happy than i ever dare express, i'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter!! currently auctioning off the spot of my friend, and everyone who wants it gets it - find me on twitter @terrorandbliss !! dm me and i will be ur bff and love you forever!! thanks again for the insane amount of support - i have no idea what my updating schedule is rn and I'm very grateful y'all are sticking w/ me :) love you! see you next time!


	17. just enjoy what you can

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin drags Whizzer along for his next therapy session. It doesn't take long for Mendel to realize what a mistake that was.

Another month has gone by of therapy, another month of talking to Marvin, forgetting he even needs real results. Therapy with Mendel sometimes feels like a discussion, which you might assume to be a tactic, but it’s not - it’s a mistake. Mendel doesn’t know shit about most of the patients he works with intellectually, but at least he has some on the surface information.

Marvin had asked, a week prior, if he could bring Whizzer in. Apparently there was trouble in paradise. And Mendel wasn’t really paying attention, so he said yes. And now both men were coming to talk to him. Yikes.

When they came in, Whizzer already looked upset. Mendel could tell he didn’t want to be here. Marvin probably had barely even told him about it. Mendel smiled up at them, ignoring the glare Whizzer was giving Marvin, and invited them to sit. They did. Mendel had no damn clue what he was doing.

“So, hi. Whizzer, I know we’ve barely met - I’m Mendel,” he says, not unkindly. Whizzer groans anyway, and Mendel tries not to be offended. That’s something he remembers from Marvin’s never-ending rants, that Whizzer is frequently insulting, and Marvin can’t tell if it’s intentional or merely part of his nature.

“I know. Hi,” he says simply. Mendel reminds himself the aggravation is with Marvin and not himself.

Mendel smiles, but he thinks it looks more like a grimace. He turns to both men, letting either answer. “So, how are you guys?”

Marvin shrugs. Whizzer leans back and folds his arms. Mendel sighs. “Campaign going well?” he asks Marvin specifically.

“Well enough, I guess,” he replies noncommittally. Mendel usually gets more out of him than this. It’s silent for a moment.

“Why am I here?” Whizzer asks finally. He glares between his lover and his psychiatrist.

“I thought we could use this,” Marvin says, shrugging.

Whizzer laughs coldly. Marvin and Mendel are both bracing themselves. “What might give you that impression?”

Marvin scoffs. “I mean, you storm away from me half the time anything gets too personal. And I’m tired of just fighting.”

“So…” Whizzer says, readjusting himself to face Marvin entirely. “Unless I’m mishearing, it sounds like you’re blaming me for all that. All the fighting.” His tone isn’t accusatory, but his gaze is.

“You’re always picking fights, Whizz,” Marvin says, exasperatedly. Mendel doesn’t even know where to interject. “You can’t possibly deny that.”

Whizzer laughs again, except there’s no trace of humor. “You disagree with  _ everything _ , and that’s only when you’re actually home with me. And then I barely even fucking see you, because you’re doing all of the presidential shit-”

“-which is shit that matters to you, Whizzer! What do you want me to do, drop out? I’m sorry if I’m not willing to do all that for your majesty,” Marvin retorts, face going red.

“I want you to compromise on  _ something _ ! Anything! You’re not even hearing me!” Their voices are both raised now. Mendel looks between them helplessly.

Marvin gives a cold laugh of his own now. “You don’t get to say shit about compromise.”

Mendel feels as if he has to interject now. He clears his throat, both men turn to him very suddenly. Neither speaks, although both look furious.

“Okay. Okay,” he says awkwardly. “That was- yeah, we have things to work with.”

Whizzer doesn’t look at Marvin. His gaze is diverted away from him or Mendel, staring at a spot on the floor. Marvin, alternatively, is looking at Whizzer. The look in his eye is impossible to read.

“So, uh, compromise. What’s up with that?” Mendel asks lightly. He regrets it, because both men start talking at once. It takes him a moment to restore order. He wonders vaguely about the irony of it all - refusing to listen to each other compromise. Mendel whistles softly, realizing this is going to be a  _ long _ session.

Mendel learns little to nothing about the logistics of their relationship. All he does learn, really is that they fight. They fight quite a lot. And Mendel has absolutely no idea how  it’s possible to preserve a relationship on  _ this _ . He has no idea how they’ve done it for the twelve, or eleven if you asked Whizzer, months of their relationship. A  _ year _ by Marvin’s count. When Mendel brings up the sheer length, Whizzer goes pale.

The fights are messy, and they’re brutal, and they’re entirely cruel. They know exactly what will set the other off, and they  _ use it _ . They tear each other to pieces and make each other feel like the worst people they can be, and then what? Mendel doesn’t have the slightest clue how, after all of this, they’ll still go home and sleep in the same bed and have a molecule of tolerance for the other. It doesn’t seem right.

“What about the good parts?” Mendel asks after a particularly rigorous fight. “What’s good about this?”

The fight completely drains from Whizzer. Marvin still looks defensive, but it’s better. Better than what it was minutes ago. Mendel mentally applauds himself for being able to calm them down. But, the issue, calm as they might be - both are far too stubborn to admit any positive feelings they might have. Marvin opens his mouth, furrowing his brows, and then shuts it again. Whizzer is zoned out into a different world already.

Mendel prompts them again. “Anything?” Whizzer doesn’t jolt back to life, his gaze still unfocused. Marvin looks at him, almost desperately, but nothing. Marvin sighs. Whizzer furrows his brows.

“I like at night. Like, right as the fight drains out and he’s half asleep. He’s not even awake enough to complain about shit.” Whizzer looks up at Marvin now. Marvin turns to him. “You just like… curl up with me and let me play with your hair until you fall asleep.” Whizzer, rather than looking flattered, looks scared. “And in the mornings, too. Before you have coffee. You’re just sappy. And sometimes you just look at me when you think I can’t see, but I do, and I  _ love it _ . You look like you care for once.”

Whizzer looks like a deer caught in headlights. He averts his gaze when Marvin mentions  _ love _ . He’s breathing very quickly. He has nothing to say, he refuses to look at Marvin. And Mendel has no clue what to do.

“I don’t.” Whizzer says quietly. Mendel doesn’t even hear it at first. He repeats himself. “I don’t. I don’t care. I don’t.” The half-smile that had rested on Marvin’s face fades away. “I don’t.” He sounds like he’s trying to convince himself. “I… don’t.” Marvin looks hurt. Whizzer looks sad. Mendel looks confused as all hell.

“When you asked why we were here earlier?” Marvin says slowly. Whizzer looks at him, an attempt at impassive. “This is why.”

Whizzer gives a sigh, something Mendel is under the impression was meant to be a scoff but didn’t come out.

Marvin and Mendel finish the session alone. Whizzer leaves, partially because he wants to, partially because Marvin wants him to, and partially because Mendel wants him to. And Marvin doesn’t have much more to say, and Mendel doesn’t know what to say.

They talk a little about Jason, a tiny bit about Whizzer. Mendel doesn’t know how to say he has  _ no _ idea what he’s supposed to do. So he doesn’t do anything. And when Marvin leaves, Whizzer is waiting, and Whizzer kisses him passionately and whispers something Mendel can’t hear. Marvin smirks a bit, and then they leave.

Mendel’s relationship to Marvin has changed a lot, in the sense that he was miserable to okay to filled with dread when they came into contact. Mendel can respect him usually, and understand him sometimes. And, hey - that's a lot further than they were a year ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm baaaaaack
> 
> it's!! been a hot sec!! i've been losing motivation to write lately (whether that's because of school, the current state of america, or because i'm writing about a presidential election in the middle of a terrifying presidential election is anyone's guess) but i am!! trying!!
> 
> this is actually the last mendel pov chapter!! i've never really been happy with how i've written mendel, so that's why there's been so little of him, and i wanted to try the dynamic of whizzer, marvin, AND mendel in this chapter... so that's what we did :D it's unusual but it's fuuuuun
> 
> as i hinted at a lil before... the election is happening rn!! go vote early!! do it!! vote however is safest to you (by mail, early, in person..) but pls make sure to cast ur ballot!! every vote counts. we need you!! get your friends and family to vote too!! everybody vote!! black lives matter, and trump clearly isn't behind that simple statement, so NOW is the time to vote him out.
> 
> that's all from me!! i hope you guys enjoyed this chapter, let me know your thoughts!! again, updates are going to be all over the place, especially given that i've been writing this in the middle of the real election,, after the debate i like. physically couldn't write this & it didn't feel right to do so who rly knows whoops. but i WILL finish this i promise!! i write four chapters ahead and i'm very excited for you all to see what's coming, just bear with me as i get thru this :) thanks guys!! comments and kudos are invaluable, stalk me @terrorandbliss on twitter, be my friend, i love you, goodbye!!


	18. i don't know what to say

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tight-knit family refuses to learn from their mistakes - by which I mean, they share another group-wide dinner.

Cordelia isn’t entirely shocked to be back at Marvin’s place. Maybe it took her by surprise following a text from Whizzer in the afternoon ( _ come to marv’s tonight.. or else _ ) and then another ( _ kidding but. COME! _ ), but not really surprised.

The biggest downside of it being last minute was not being able to provide as much of her own cooking. Although, she had still managed to whip a little something up, and that was what was in the containers in her arms preventing her from knocking on the door.

“You’re useless,” Charlotte laughs, ringing the doorbell and leaning against the frame, watching her girlfriend balance her containers.

“I know  _ that _ ,” Cordelia replied, returning the laugh. She leans over the many containers to kiss her, containers that are now resting in the space between their bodies. They laugh again as the door opens, and Whizzer turns to see them.

“Jesus fuck,” he says simply, grabbing some of the upper containers without another world. Delia giggles and follows suit, Charlotte grabbing the bottom ones. They follow Whizzer into the house, dropping his containers on the kitchen counter. “You really went to town with food for only having a few hour’s notice,” he remarks.

Cordelia places the containers on top of his with Charlotte. “You can’t say you expected otherwise,” she responds, to which Whizzer laughs.

“I didn’t,” Whizzer concedes. “But still, this… is a lot, Dee.” Cordelia takes that as a compliment.

Marvin comes in, then, hugging the girls lightly and moving back to Whizzer. He puts his arm around Whizzer’s waist. Whizzer tenses. Cordelia notices.

“Is it the same group as last time?” Charlotte asks absently. Marvin nods. Cordelia can’t tell whether he’s oblivious to Whizzer’s tension or is just ignoring it.

Not so long after, the others are here. Trina, Mendel, and Jason all arrive together. And there’s some confusion around that, and Marvin’s brow stays furrowed for too long to ignore, but it’s fine. Cordelia takes note of Whizzer constantly shying away from Marvin. And then they eat.

You might assume that, because this is their second meal together, it’d be less tense. You might assume that the group was more comfortable with each other, that conversation would flow smoothly. To assume that, however, would be wrong.

Whizzer and Marvin aren't speaking (or, rather - Whizzer isn’t speaking to Marvin), Trina and Mendel appear awkward and more silent than usual, Jason seems out of it, and Charlotte and Cordelia steal glances wondering how on Earth they’re supposed to interject.

Most of the meal passes in silence. Sometimes Marvin clears his throat, like he’s going to say something. Whizzer stops moving for just a second when he does, not looking at him, and then returns to ignoring him entirely. He doesn’t actually say anything. Cordelia is pretty sure Mendel and Trina grab hands under the table. She thinks Marvin might notice, too, and stares intentionally at his food without eating much. Jason doesn’t make eye contact with anyone, aside from half a second with Whizzer.

Cordelia makes a random comment about the election, which is at least something they’re all familiar about. Jason seems to distance himself even more. Marvin talks, eager for any subject, Trina and Mendel interjecting their own supportive comments where they can. Whizzer says nothing, until Cordelia makes him.

“What do you think, Whizzer? Future president in the room?” Whizzer glares at Cordelia, who smiles sweetly. She can tell he feels Marvin’s gaze on him and drops the glare. He seems to be warring on whether a snarky or sentimental comment is appropriate. Cordelia’s sure, had it been Marvin that asked, he would’ve made some sarcastic comment and avoided the question. Now, with everyone here, he might answer. Or lie.

He purses his lips for a moment before answering. “I… yeah. Yeah, there is.” He still doesn’t look at Marvin. Marvin’s still looking at him. And, as if Cordelia hadn’t been sure before, she can see that he’s in love. That both of them are. And that Whizzer would rather die than admit it.

The subject has been reviewed enough that it doesn’t carry them far. Marvin puts his hand on Whizzer’s leg and rubs it gently. Whizzer doesn’t object. He starts to turn his attention to his ex-wife, who is still holding Mendel’s hand. Marvin stares for a little, so much so that he doesn’t notice Whizzer looking up at him. He follows his gaze, gives a little ‘ _ oh _ ,’ and turns instead to Jason. He watches Jason glance between his mom and Mendel and his dad and Whizzer, and Whizzer falters when they lock eyes. He grabs Marvin’s hand and pulls it away, giving it a little squeeze so the older man can see it isn’t vicious. They look at each other for the first time the whole meal. Whizzer gives a half-smile and drops Marvin’s hand. Marvin stares.

Cordelia glances over at Charlotte, who was also studying the couple. They share a look. Whizzer glances over at them, he locks eyes with Cordelia. They both cock an eyebrow in complete unison, then both laughing. The rest of the table turns to them suddenly, looking amused. Cordelia hopes this might break the tension. It does, a tiny bit.

The dinner passes in mostly silence. A few lighthearted remarks are brought up. The silence isn’t uncomfortable, per se, but not precisely welcome either. They survive yet another meal, miraculously.

“Whizzer! I’m stealing you,” Cordelia says when the meal is complete and the table rises. Whizzer groans but obeys, ruffling Jason’s hair on his way over. Jason ducks out of the way, grinning.

“What?” Whizzer asks when the door is shut. “No, I’m not willing to discuss my infatuation with a certain someone.”

“Awe, did he teach you that word?” Cordelia teases. Whizzer glares. “Love you. But what’s going on?” Whizzer raises an eyebrow in confusion. “You didn’t say a single word to him.”

Whizzer sighs. “Nothing. That’s normal.” Cordelia scoffs.

“Why are you so against being in lo-” Whizzer shushes her at once, leaning against the door. “Oh, my God.”

Still holding himself against the door, he whispers, “I can’t do this, Dee. I thought I could do this, I can’t do this. I don’t want him to love me. I don’t want to love him. I don’t-”

“Okay, it’s a little late for that,” says Cordelia. She speaks at a normal volume, to which Whizzer immediately shushes her. “Jesus. Dramatic, much?” Whizzer doesn’t even warrant that with a response. She gives in, whispering, “There’s nothing  _ wrong _ with being in love, Whizzer. Just like, tell him.”

Whizzer gives a derisive laugh. “So, I’m glad we fleshed out what I’m  _ not _ going to do.”

“It’s been a  _ year _ , Whizzer. You’ve been with him for a  _ year _ . You live with him.” Whizzer leaves the door, pacing the room.

He stops. “I love him,” he says, testing it out. He sounds more like he’s asking a question.

“We’re well past that,” Cordelia nods. “But that’s progress! I don’t think you’ve said it sober before!”

“What am I supposed to do?” Whizzer asks hopelessly. He continues staring fixated at the floor. He looks up, suddenly, like he just realized Cordelia was there.

Cordelia smirks. “Tell him you love him.”

“Shut the fuck up.” He pauses for a moment, continuing, “I’ve gotta go. I’ve gotta... gotta go,” he said, walking toward the door. “Thanks for coming.”

And that’s that. Cordelia doesn’t think he’s going to tell Marvin shit, really. But a girl can dream, and dream she does as she walks home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me?? giving frequent updates?? right after saying i had no motivation?? what's going on??
> 
> uh yeah there's a chapter!! i love writing all of them together and i hope you like reading it :) this chapter is dedicated to mars, who forced me to read this one scene from homestuck and then incorporate it into this fic, so the "tell him you love him / shut the fuck up" is for you. you're welcome
> 
> if you're 18+ in america, for the love of god, VOTE. one of george floyd's killers just got released. we need justice, and we need you to use your voices and vote for biden.
> 
> that's all for today!! if you comment or give kudos i live my life in dedication to you, and if you want me to prove it hunt me down @terrorandbliss on twitter!! again, we got lucky this time, but updates will honestly probably be all over the place - i either have no motivation or a hell of a lot of it, and ur stuck with me :) love you guys!! peace out!!


	19. moments you can't understand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The tight-knit family attends a presidential debate. Trina comes to a realization.

Marvin knocks on the bedroom door yet again. “Whizzer! We’re going to be late!”

“Okay, okay,” replies Whizzer through the door. Marvin sighs and paces around the room. Trina watches.

Whizzer enters the room, at last, and Marvin sighs. Whizzer stands in the doorway, evidently expecting a compliment that doesn’t come. “Good, you’re here,” Marvin says absently. Whizzer sighs, leaning against the frame.

He does look good, in an all-white fitted suit, Trina thinks to herself. But, then again, when does he not? She does everything in her power to ignore the burst of jealousy.

“Everyone ready?” Cordelia asks, coming in the living room to join the group. Everyone nods noncommittally, and everyone leaves. Trina watches Cordelia pull Whizzer away and give him what she can only assume to be a whispered lecture, to which Whizzer rolls his eyes and moves past her. Cordelia sighs as he follows Marvin out the door.

There’s a debate that night. Marvin rubs his hands on his pants absently, until Whizzer puts his own hand on top of them. Then he stops. Trina stays silent.

She’s not sure why, exactly, she’d agreed to go to the debate to begin with. It would be televised, anyway. But Marvin had asked all six of them to come, and they all had. Maybe Trina was still trying to break the habit of not listening to his every whim, after what was now over two years since their divorce. It felt pitiful, although Mendel had used  _ perfectly valid _ . She wasn’t used to that yet. But she wanted to be.

So, there the six of them were. Filling in audience seats at a presidential debate, to see  _ Marvin _ , of all people. The stage is lined with empty podiums and lights, the seats in the crowd fill up. Whizzer drums his fingers on the armrest of his aisle seat, Jason on his left, then: Trina, Mendel, Charlotte, Cordelia. Cordelia keeps glancing across the aisle at Whizzer, who avoids her.

Jason and Whizzer talk, for a little. Trina doesn’t hear all of it, because Mendel engages her and she jumps on the opportunity to talk to him. Whizzer seems to comfort Jason somehow, which is good. Trina had tried and failed. Another category Whizzer had bested her in.

Trina doesn’t pay much attention to the debate in itself. She sees Marvin looks nervous, and she watches as he finds them all in the audience. They all give the biggest smiles they can muster, in varying degrees strained. Jason’s is the most convincing, surprisingly. Whizzer looks vaguely terrified. At least Trina’s mastered the art of the fake smile. Mendel grabs her hand. She exhales.

It strikes Trina with an alarming new reality, during this debate, what Marvin is trying to do. Because he’s  _ good _ at this. She’s impressed. He’s witty and fast and, God, he might win. He just might win. And Trina has no idea what that means for her. Whizzer seems to be undergoing a similar train of thought.

Trina hasn’t spent a lot of time thinking about what she wants lately. Actually, she hasn’t spent a lot of time thinking about what she wants, period. She spent her time thinking about what Marvin wants, and Marvin wants this, so that was okay. It was okay when he started planning his candidacy back when they were still married, and it was okay, too, when they were divorced. Okay for Marvin.

Something being  _ okay for Trina _ had felt long since out of the question. No one had really cared, in her knowledge. She was the mediator, she helped Marvin and Jason. Not herself. And now Mendel wanted to help her. And now she was being helped. And maybe she’d be okay that way.

Marvin would be going to Washington, D.C. if he won. Marvin would want to see Jason. Jason would want… well, Trina wasn’t as sure about that. Whizzer probably was. She cursed him mentally, hating him only a tiny bit. She didn't really hate him. But she really wanted to.

And now there’s a new question, which is - what does Trina want? The words in her mind, under the magnified voice of her ex-husband in the debate, swam hazily, unfamiliar. She felt Mendel’s hand on top of her own, and below it, her fingers grasping on to the armrest. She grips it. Marvin stops talking. Trina thinks again.

Trina doesn’t want to go to D.C. She doesn’t. Trina’s not going to Washington, D.C. Trina’s staying in New York. Because that’s what Trina wants. And it’s so _ simple _ that it’s alarming. She loosens her grip on the armrest. She relaxes. They can coexist in different states, Trina assures herself. They can make it work. And for once in her life, Trina doesn’t get into the logistics of what that means.

She glances over at Whizzer absently. He has a look in his eye that she knows he’ll deny was ever there. Marvin doesn’t see it, Whizzer disregards it, but this means a few things to Trina.

The first of which -  _ Whizzer _ wants to go to D.C..  _ Whizzer _ wants this and everything that comes with it. And he may not have even admitted that to himself, yet. And Trina doesn’t know exactly how she’s supposed to feel about that.

The second of which - Trina’s spent far too much time deciding what’s similar about them. Trina’s spent far too much time thinking of what she recognizes, of what being in a relationship with Marvin is like. Because they’re so different. Because Whizzer is in love with Marvin. Because Trina wants love, because she seeks it out, because she will take measures to ensure it stays in place. And Whizzer doesn’t. Whizzer avoids it like it’s a plague, treats it like he’s sick. He avoids it for as long as he possibly can.

And, the third, something that was clear to anyone with eyes - Whizzer was in love with Marvin. And vice versa.

Not only that, but Trina  _ isn’t _ in love with Marvin. Trina loved him, but she doesn’t now. She sits here, with Mendel’s hand on hers and her son by her side and she’s  _ okay _ . Trina is okay. And she doesn’t need Marvin to make her okay. Marvin doesn’t need her to be okay.

When they all leave the debate together, filing back in the car, Trina still doesn’t say much. She watches, because that’s what she does, but she’s okay. And, God, she wants to get used to that word.

Whizzer kisses Marvin, albeit tentatively, outside of the car. Marvin smiles into it, and Whizzer does eventually, too. Trina isn’t sure if it’s a publicity stunt or not. She doesn’t ignore the camera shutter. She turns away, sitting beside Jason, also looking vaguely uncomfortable, not making eye contact with Mendel, who she can feel looking at her with some sort of concern or empathy.

Whizzer sits two rows in front of her, fixing his wind-tousled hair in the rearview mirror. Marvin glances over every now and then, drumming his fingers absentmindedly. Trina says two words to Marvin when she leaves.

“Good luck.”

Mendel follows her out the door, waving. Marvin watches. She doesn’t bother to make eye contact. She’s convinced she doesn’t have to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> look at her and look at me giving her character development
> 
> this fic is way too close to done GUYS i have. two more chapters to write. TWO HELP!! i plan on getting the last chapter out ON election day cause im Extra Cool so mark ur calendars november third this fic ends and you're not allowed to read it if ur 18+ in america and haven't voted btw
> 
> BLACK LIVES MATTER. now and always. the movement is still ongoing - i need you to sign a petition (or two or three or.. just sign a lot) and donate if you can. don't forget about this. we still need to get breonna taylor justice. STILL.
> 
> that's all!! pls leave me some comments and kudos if ur sexc /p ily ok srsly they mean a lot, love you guys!! i don't know what my update schedule's going to look like so please stick with me!! i hope ur all doing well, thanks for reading :)


	20. play the game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marvin challenges Whizzer to a game of chess. Things accelerate very quickly.

“You’re really good at this, you know,” Whizzer says offhandedly. Marvin cocks an eyebrow, Whizzer laughs. “Political things, I mean. Although, you are good at other things,” he adds with a smirk.

Marvin grins. “I do try.” He stands by the door frame, watching Whizzer. He says, finally, pointing to the chessboard, “Play a game with me.”

Whizzer groans light-spiritedly. “You know as well as anyone that I am  _ shit _ at chess.”

“Works better for me,” Marvin replies simply, sitting down and setting up the board. Whizzer laughs and sits opposite him, mock annoyance as he sets up.

“Of course, the whole needing to win complex,” Whizzer replies. It isn’t meant to be a cool remark, but it is. Marvin grimaces awkwardly. They set up the rest of the board in silence.

“You start,” Marvin comments when the board is complete and Whizzer waits expectantly. “Move a pawn.”

Whizzer gives a soft  _ oh _ before looking down at the board, rubbing his hands on his legs absently. He puts his hand slowly on a piece in the back row, knowing that he has absolutely no clue what a pawn is even after all these months. And Marvin will enjoy correcting him anyway.

Marvin smirks like Whizzer knew he would, giving a tiny shake of the head. Whizzer moves his hand to another, Marvin holds in a chuckle and shakes his head again. Whizzer moves his hand again, Marvin considers. Whizzer moves it forward, taking the silence as confirmation.

“I mean, that is a pawn, but that’s a shitty move to make,” Marvin explains, looking back up at Whizzer.

Whizzer groans. “It’s the first round! How is there already a shitty pawn move?” He asks, quickly moving his pawn back where it came. “Nothing happened. I simply never moved.” Marvin laughs and lets it go. He’s looking at Whizzer with that glint in his eye again, and Whizzer recoils swiftly.

Whizzer moves again. Marvin considers where to move, Whizzer jumps on his opportunity. “Move a pawn, Marvie,” he drawls, bringing out the nickname just so he can watch Marvin’s face flush. It used to just be with annoyance, but maybe it’s grown on him, because he smiles softly. Whizzer curses himself mentally. In his distraction, Whizzer repeats. “Move, Marvin.”

“Okay, okay,” Marvin laughs, Whizzer guesses just to relieve some tension. He moves. Whizzer studies the board. He puts his hand on a piece, Marvin shoots up instantly. “Not that,” he says, almost as if it were a reflex. “Don’t move that.” Whizzer scoffs, choosing to pick a fight.

“Oh, gee, Marvie,” he pouts, looking directly in the dazzlingly blue eyes that he’s grown to love, sometimes to hate. “Why don’t you tell me where to go? And how to act. And where to be, and when, and how I can cater everything  _ exactly _ to your liking. Tell me-”

Marvin scoffs and interrupts him. “You’ve made your point.”

Whizzer nods. “Good.” He moves a pawn and waits.

“What do you want from me?” Marvin asks carefully, his eyes leaving the board. Whizzer smirks.

“Well, I’d like a lot of things.” Whizzer pauses. “First of all, to win.”

Marvin chuckles half-heartedly. “Fine.”

Whizzer grins, moving pieces around in a way that he just  _ knows _ will invigorate Marvin. He doesn’t know why he does it. “Stop-” Marvin tries, but Whizzer beats him.

“Checkmate,” he says, putting some piece - he isn’t sure which - in front of Marvin’s king. Marvin groans.

“Jesus, Whizzer, can’t you just… I don’t know, play by the rules for once?” He looks annoyed, more than Whizzer had bet on. But it’s fine. He knows he has the power here.

Whizzer pouts, head in his hand. “But that’s no fun! Gotta spice it up!”

Marvin sighs. “I just thought we could do one thing, without your extra pizazz. One thing, like normal human beings.”

Whizzer stares. He inhales, not even really sure about what he’s going to say, when:

“Listen, I love you.”

And then it all comes crashing down. Whizzer doesn’t look at Marvin, he  _ can’t _ look at Marvin. This is everything he didn’t want, this is everything he tried to avoid. This was everything he  _ swore _ he would avoid. Coming to bite him, like everyone had said it would.

“I love you,” he repeats, although Whizzer’s mind is reeling too much to completely take it in. “You and all your spice. And I want to try this, Whizzer, and I want this to be more serious than you’ve ever taken us. I’m just asking for you to try.”

What would the  _ normal human being _ thing to do be? He could say he loved Marvin back, which was true, say he wanted to try for their relationship again, which was also true… He doesn’t know what Marvin’s asking for. He doesn’t know if Marvin is asking for monogamy, or stability, or support, or just plain and simple  _ love _ . But Whizzer, master of overthinking in seconds, has no choice to conclude that none of this is true. He has to conclude Marvin’s just trying to use him in some master political scheme, because that’s what politicians do, and because anything less than that would mean Marvin was truly, genuinely in love with him. And Whizzer doesn’t have time to unpack all of that.

“I need to go,” Whizzer says quickly. He stands up. Marvin does, too. Whizzer swears in the smallest whisper he can.

“Where?” Marvin asks, grabbing his wrist. Whizzer feels like he can barely breathe. “Please stop running away when things get too emotional for you, Whizzer.”

Whizzer looks him in the eye, panting a little bit. “I’m not sure I can do that for you. I need a drink, or even, like, a smoke, or something,” Whizzer invents wildly.

“You don’t smoke,” Marvin says. Whizzer laughs humorlessly.

“Do now, I guess.” Whizzer can tell he’s already hurt Marvin more than ever before. He doesn’t care, right then, and he can’t think to begin with.

Marvin looks desperate. “I just told you I loved you, and you impulsively decided to take up smoking?” Whizzer nods. Marvin can see right through his bullshit. “I need you, Whizz.”

Whizzer scoffs. “You mean, for the campaign?  _ Need me _ to be by your side, silently affirming your sexuality?  _ Need me _ for your endless goddamn schemes,  _ need me _ for anything other than you? You’re distancing, too, Marvin. This scares you, probably more than it does me. You are doing anything you can to invalidate this, to make this political! Ever consider I get sick of some things, too?” He knows it’s true with every word he draws out. Marvin doesn’t say anything for a moment. It takes him just a moment too long to deny, and it’s Whizzer’s turn to be hurt.

“I need you for more than those,” Marvin says. It sounds like a lie. Marvin seems to notice this, too. “This is all just new-”

Whizzer scoffs and rolls his eyes. “It’s new for me, too, Marvin. You don’t get to play that card.”

Then, a pause. Marvin's voice sounds weak, hopeless. “Do you think we were just, like…  _ fated _ to not work out?” he asks after a beat. He sounds as miserable as Whizzer feels. Whizzer doesn’t respond, staring at a point several inches left of Marvin’s head.

He loves Marvin. Although, how is Whizzer supposed to know what that feels like? What Whizzer does guess is that most couples don’t tear each other to pieces like they do. Most couples probably don’t hate each other when they’re not having crises over whether they’re in love. And maybe that’s what keeps Whizzer from responding.

“Maybe you  _ should _ go,” Marvin says quietly. Whizzer turns to look him in the face. He doesn’t look angry. Just sad, really.

“Marvin-” Whizzer begins. Marvin cuts him off.

“I’m sure Charlotte and Cordelia will let you stay. Because they… love you. And vice versa.” Marvin grimaces with every word. Whizzer can’t breathe again, no longer in a panicky sense. A softer loss of breath.

Whizzer inhales best he can. “Is that what you want?” Marvin is about to say  _ yes _ , but he can’t seem to do it. So he just nods. Whizzer stands. “Okay.”

It’s not okay. Marvin knows that. Whizzer knows that. But that’s how it works with Whizzer and Marvin, that’s how it always has. Neither admitting they’re not okay. Neither talking about what they need to discuss. It’s been a fun little game to play, a short song to sing. And now it’s over.

Whizzer packs faster than he expects himself to. He doesn’t know how, considering his belongings are pretty spread out among the apartment. But it’s only a short amount of time later that he has a suitcase in his hand, walking out the front door. Too short.

He doesn’t look back. He can’t. He doesn’t go to Charlotte and Cordelia’s, either. Instead, he goes to a bar, taking every precaution necessary to simply forget about Marvin and his blue goddamn eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi. i'm sorry
> 
> my goal for this chapter was to have the breakup but not in a way that felt too villainizing of one character? the situations these characters are in are v different than canon, and i think that rly shifts their development in a big way and they all have to grow up a little faster here (marvin especially). so, here's what we got! i hope it turned out like intended :)
> 
> there are FIVE CHAPTERS LEFT EVERYONE REMAIN CALM. i actually only have one more to write which... wow i am so not prepared for this fic to end help?? but yeah a little more than two weeks until last chapter (they'll probably be published in 3-ish day segments so yay schedules)
> 
> HEY YOU!! SIGN A PETITION!! using your voice is still as wildly as important as it was at the height of the movement a few months ago. keep talking about blm. and, on top of that, keep talking abt this election!! vote!! if you can vote now in your state, do it!! vote him out!!
> 
> that's all!! thanks for sticking with me, comments and kudos mean eeeveeerrryyythhiiiiinnnnggg and i rly appreciate them!! especially if i read them on zoom call!! i'm so over emotional these days that i smile a lot and occasionally cry (/pos) and i love reading ur kind words instead of doing algebra <3 love y'all!! come be my friend i promise i don't bite!! @terrorandbliss on twitter!! see you next time!!


	21. it's not my responsibility

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason notices that Whizzer is gone, and he's not going to let go of their relationship just because of a breakup.

The first time Jason went back to Marvin’s while Whizzer was gone, Marvin didn’t even mention it. He appeared to be working very hard to try and distract himself from something, trying to plan an engaging weekend for the two of them. But Whizzer had been gone for weekends at a time before, so Jason wasn’t worried.

Week two without Whizzer, though, sparked some concern. Marvin was becoming more and more consumed with presidential stuff to do, things Jason couldn’t be too fussed learning about. He hoped Whizzer would be back next week because he would talk to Jason while Marvin took calls and made speeches. But Marvin seemed sad, more sad than he had before, so Jason wasn’t counting on it. Another weekend came and went without a single mention of his name.

The third week was the kicker. Whizzer was nowhere to be seen and Mavin was downright miserable, practically drowning in campaign work. At dinner he mentions Whizzer cautiously, asking where he is. Marvin’s voice tightens, he doesn't look at Jason, and he says that Whizzer probably isn’t coming back. Jason holds on to the  _ probably _ . He guesses his dad does, too.

He feels bad for his dad, he thinks. Maybe he’d feel worse if anyone had told him Whizzer was leaving to begin with. But the energy of misery through the room makes him able to overlook that for just a moment.

And Jason misses Whizzer, and he doesn’t find it  _ fair _ that he doesn’t get to see Whizzer anymore just because his dad broke up with him. So Jason goes into his dad’s phone when he’s in another room, and he quickly writes his number down, pocketing it and putting it back. He’s not going to lose his friend, too.

He has to wait to be home alone to call - not because he thinks his mom or Mendel would take issue with it, but because of the tension surrounding anything related to his father  _ or _ Whizzer with his mom. Cursing over-protective parents that refuse to give their son a phone, at long last, they leave. Jason doesn’t know nor care why they do. He dials Whizzer’s number on the house phone and waits.

“Hello, Whizzer Brown, speaking,” responds Whizzer’s voice through the phone. Jason grins.

“Hi, Whizzer!” he says eagerly. Whizzer does a double-take. Jason notices how completely exhausted Whizzer sounds, but doesn’t mention it.

Aside from tired, Whizzer sounds happy, too. “Jason? Hi, buddy! How did you-”

“I got your number from my dad’s phone,” Jason explains quickly. “I miss you.”

Jason could hear Whizzer sigh from the other end. “I miss you, too, Jase. I’m sorry.” Jason doesn’t really put together why Whizzer is apologizing.

“Can I see you somewhere?” Jason asks. “I still want to hang out with you.”

Whizzer is silent for a moment, Jason listens intently. Finally, he sighs. “Okay.” Jason grins. He thinks Whizzer is smiling, too.

They arrange plans to see each other in two days' time, on Jason’s way home from school. Jason doesn’t tell Trina, or Mendel, or Marvin. He thinks that Whizzer is under the impression that he has, but he hasn’t - he doesn’t even want to risk the possibility of not being able to see him.

Whizzer is already waiting for Jason, sitting on a park bench. Jason notices him right away, he’s having a short conversation with a guy walking by. The guy has a dog that Whizzer is petting, laughing easily. Jason wonders absently how he does it, when his dad just looks  _ sad  _ by comparison . He glances awkwardly at the Obelisk, studying it with vague interest while waiting for Whizzer, feeling weird to intrude.

The guy walks away from Whizzer, and Jason chooses to disregard how Whizzer stares at his ass for just a moment too long. He sits down beside him, and Whizzer grins widely, throwing an arm around him and squeezing him tightly. Jason smiles.

They catch up for a little - Whizzer apologizes for not reaching out, Jason tells him about school, and about stress, but he’s careful not to mention his father. Whizzer seems grateful for that.

They’re so close to the fields that it would be a shame if they  _ didn’t _ play any baseball, so they do. Jason debates inviting Whizzer to a game of his, but realizes that might mean seeing Marvin, and that maybe it wasn’t a smart move quite yet. Jason isn’t even sure Marvin will come, anyway - he doesn’t like baseball to begin with, and he’s busy, and he’s running for president, so there are more important things to do than attending his son’s baseball game.

Jason and Whizzer make more plans to meet up, every other week. It’s not ideal, but at least they’re seeing each other a little. At least they have some way of hanging out, even without Marvin being their connection, because he’s not going to lose Whizzer, too.

It’s their second time meeting just outside the Metropolitan Museum of Art - not because either wanted to go inside, but for a walk down to the fields. Whizzer is sitting alone on the steps, jumping up when he sees Jason. And it’s all great.

Jason still hasn’t told Trina, Mendel, or Marvin what he’s been up to. He still doesn’t plan on it, this is for him and for Whizzer.

Whizzer is the first one to mention Marvin. He asks how he is, looking as if he regrets asking from the moment the words leave his mouth. But Jason answers anyway, because he knows Whizzer wants him to.

“Okay, I guess. He misses you,” Jason says. Marvin hasn’t told him either of those things, but knows them to be true. “And campaign stress isn’t helping anyone.” Whizzer gives a short chuckle at that, but says nothing. Jason tests the waters. “Why aren’t you guys together anymore?”

Whizzer looks down at Jason. He looks more sad than he’s seen him in a while. He bites his lip to consider, and Jason regrets asking, too.

“I don’t know,” he says eventually. “Well, I do, I just… I don’t know.” He pauses, turning to Jason. Jason looks back, carefully neutral. “I mean, we never really got along, you know that. It was only a matter of time.”

Jason can tell Whizzer is leaving something out, but doesn’t pry. Jason turns away, and they continue walking. It’s a little awkward, but Jason knows it won’t be for long. Jason poses another question. “Do  _ you _ miss  _ him _ ?”

Whizzer considers again, but not for long. “Sometimes.” He doesn’t elaborate. Jason doesn’t ask him to. Whizzer changes the subject.

He gets back home, tossing the napkin from ice cream Whizzer had treated him to in the trash, wiping his mouth absently to be safe. He goes inside the apartment. It’s then that Trina and Mendel confide their relationship to Jason. The words wash over his head, having less effect than he guesses they’re supposed to. He doesn’t say a word, just nods and leaves. He doesn’t really know how he’s supposed to feel about that.

He lies down in his bed, despite it being far too early to go to sleep, and he thinks. What about? He’s not entirely sure himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello and thank u for attending jason/whizzer time
> 
> uhhh yeah!! i hope y'all enjoyed this chapter!! i'm not super happy abt it but i'm going to pretend i am!! updates are going to be every four days from here on out!! i know i say this every week but i can't believe this is actually ending help!! no i will not stop using two exclamation points!!
> 
> VOTE VOTE VOTE. the election is SO soon, and even ongoing now for some of you. if you are 18+ in america, PLEASE vote. we can't take another four years of this. vote for the people who you know that are LGBT+, people of color, disabled, women, and any other minority. vote for US. we need you. please
> 
> that's all!! thanks for reading, comments and kudos mean everything to me and i rly appreciate them <3 find me @terrorandbliss on twitter, i would love to be ur friend!! let me know what you thought of this chapter, thanks all!! love you guys, see you soon!!


	22. you're feeling very sick inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Whizzer watches a televised debate with Charlotte and Cordelia. He is completely over Marvin... or so he's telling himself.

“It’s starting in two minutes! Get over here!” Cordelia calls from the living room. “Dear God, Whizzer, you can get through this without some wine.”

Whizzer sat down beside his friend, taking a sip before answering. “Yeah, but can I really, though?”

Cordelia rolls her eyes. Charlotte sits down beside her girlfriend, putting a hand on her thigh. Then, they wait. A commercial for Marvin’s campaign comes on. Cordelia glances over at Whizzer, who fidgets awkwardly.

“If you can’t handle a commercial, how do you expect to get through this debate?” Charlotte asks, glancing over at the man beside her. Whizzer merely raises his glass in response. Charlotte sighs.

Cordelia spent about just as much time watching the debate in and of itself as she did watching Whizzer look at the screen. He seemed to have forgotten just how good Marvin was at debates. He seemed to have forgotten just how much he loved him.

Cordelia has watched presidential debates her entire life. She doesn’t necessarily enjoy them, but it feels important that she know what’s going on in the country. And she’s seen a lot of different people debate each other - she’s seen boring ones, vaguely entertaining ones, downright laughable ones. But this one is  _ good _ \- Marvin’s smart, and his opponent is, too, but not as smart as Marvin. And he’s witty, and it’s absolutely entertaining. Dare she say it, Cordelia is even enjoying it.

At one point, they’re asked about gay marriage. Cordelia sees Whizzer smirk. And Marvin is cocky, but not in a way that’s too extreme, and Whizzer  _ laughs _ . Only for a second, before catching himself and then sitting in silence. Charlotte and Cordelia share a look.

The debate ends a little over an hour later. Marvin looks satisfied, confident in a soft-spoken kind of way. He blushes a little and smiles, and Whizzer’s eyes are glued to the screen. They cut to the audience, and they see Trina, Mendel, and Jason all watching. Cordelia quickly glances over to Whizzer, who is still fixated on the screen, softening. Cordelia smirks.

“You’re in love with him,” Cordelia says simply. Charlotte nods. Whizzer groans, reaching to grab his drink before realizing he’s already finished it.

“We broke up,” Whizzer responds simply, dodging the question. “He can be the second president who isn’t married.”

Cordelia chuckles. “Who’s the first?”

“James Buchanan,” Whizzer replied offhandedly. “His niece that he raised served as first lady. He was probably gay, too, actually.”

“Really?” Cordelia asks, toying a smile. “What makes you think that?”   


Whizzer adjusts himself on the couch. “A, my gaydar,” he says, and Cordelia and Charlotte laugh. “But b, he lived with another guy before getting elected, and said guy, like, wrote letters from Paris complaining there weren’t any other guys there with him and that he wouldn’t have any romantic attraction to a woman. And both of them had their personal papers burned when they died, so, y’know, it’s implicative. And he wasn't even the most ideal president himself."

Cordelia hums in response. Charlotte nods.

“Marvin would be the first  _ openly _ gay one, though,” Whizzer continued, continuing to avoid Charlotte and Cordelia’s gaze. “And a good one. That’s important. Also, first Jewish president, so he’s got a lot going for him” Then, he says nothing. He continues staring aimlessly at a place several inches from the television. Charlotte turns it off. Whizzer continues staring.

“You should talk to him,” Cordelia offers up. Charlotte tenses, waiting. Whizzer chuckles sadly.

“I’m going to need another drink to get through this conversation,” Whizzer replies. Charlotte and Cordelia roll their eyes together. Whizzer tries to stand, Cordelia pulls him back.

Shaking her head, Cordelia says simply, “No. You’ve had way too many drunk conversations about him with us-”

“I have?” Whizzer interrupts, looking over at Cordelia. Charlotte laughs.

“ _ Yes _ , you have, and it’s time you have one sober.” Cordelia glances at the empty glass in front of him. “Tipsy,” she amends.

Whizzer disregards this. “What have I said about him drunk?” he asks quickly.

“Too much to canvas in such little time,” Charlotte interjects. “You told me you loved him. Also that you hated him. There was variety.”

Whizzer breathes out slowly. “Is now a good time to tell you to cut down on drinking, or-?” Cordelia tries. Whizzer doesn’t even warrant that with a response. He just glares. “No? Okay. A conversation for a later date.”

“So, to recap, with your relationship,” Charlotte intervenes. Whizzer turns to her. “You love him, but you’re not telling him because you’re scared, even if you won’t admit it. And Marvin  _ finally _ showed some vulnerability with you and said that he loved you, which is something you want, and you got scared and left him. And now, you've broken up but are still both madly in love with each other. Correct?”

Whizzer glares. “I don’t like that way of phrasing it. I’m not the  _ villain _ here, Charlotte. I’m just trying.” Cordelia puts an arm on him, and Charlotte lets off a little. Just a little.

“How would you put it, then?” she asks. Whizzer doesn’t hesitate to answer.

“Yes, I guess I, y’know, love him.” He chews on the word a bit, but plowing on before giving himself too much time to think about it. “But what was our relationship to him, really? This was one big publicity stunt, Char. All of this! He gets the press, he gets the attention, he gets all of this. And I just helped him get there. He doesn’t really love me. He needs me.”

Cordelia is silent, watching Charlotte. Charlotte responds. “Has he told you that?”

“He didn’t deny it,” Whizzer replies coolly. Monotone. Emotionless. Acting as if he doesn’t care. As usual.

“Listen, I don’t know what happened,” Cordelia says carefully. “But you’d have to be blind to think that man isn’t head over heels for you.” She lets this sit. 

Whizzer doesn’t look at Charlotte or Cordelia. He looks back in front of him, staring at the blank screen where Marvin’s face was just moments ago. The girls wait.

“What do you want me to do about it?” Whizzer asks. “We broke up. He told me to leave.”

Cordelia and Charlotte look at each other before turning back to Whizzer. He’s looking at them now, too. “Talk to him. He wants to hear from you.”

Whizzer scoffs. Charlotte jumps in quickly, “Didn’t you say that, like, just a week ago, Jason was talking to you about him? And  _ he _ said Marvin misses you? He’s his son, I think you’ve gotta trust him here.”

“Listen, I’m not sure if it was unclear, but I was kind of an ass to him during that last fight. And him to me, but I recognize that isn’t your point. How am I supposed to go back and talk to him after all that?”

Cordelia smiles softly. “Well, this is a  _ really _ foreign concept,” she says. “So you may not have heard of it. But you could do this crazy thing called apologizing?” Whizzer rolls his eyes. “It means verbally, or in some cases physically, expressing how you feel bad for something you did.”

“Thanks so much, but I know what apologizing means. Bitch,” Whizzer replies, adding in that last bit as an afterthought. Cordelia laughs. “I just… I don’t know. We’ll see.”

“I’ll take it!” Charlotte replied. “September 14th, baby’s first sober conversation.  _ Tipsy _ , I mean” she amends quickly. Cordelia laughs.

“Fuck you,” Whizzer replies simply, stifling a laugh of his own. He stands. “I’m going back to my place, where I will have the copious amounts of alcohol that you have not provided. Thanks, love you!”

Charlotte laughs appreciatively. “Remember, we’re just one obnoxiously thin wall away,” she replies. Whizzer laughs, and then he leaves.

Cordelia and Charlotte clink their significantly fuller glasses together, and drink to an overall success.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello its me i finished writing this fic the other day and am ungodly emotional
> 
> oh yeah uh!! by this point marv has gotten thru primaries!! i didn't say that explicitly anywhere but yeah!! that's why there's the debate!! & all the history stuff is true also!! next chapter starts a week from election day so like,,, AAA it's almost over i'm not prepared
> 
> less than two weeks until the election, y'all. if you're 18+ in america, PLEASE vote (preferably now if you can). we NEED you. go to vote.org for more resources. i'm counting on you guys. black lives matter, please keep talking about that movement, too.
> 
> that's all!! find me @terrorandbliss on twitter, comments & kudos are SO appreciated, let me know your thoughts!! see you in abt four days, love you guys!!


	23. trying to keep sane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seven. Six. Five. Four. Three. Two-
> 
> The days trickle by before the election. Trina prepares.

_ october 27. one week until election day. _

Before Whizzer came, the only emotion in the apartment was fear. Trina, Mendel, Jason, Charlotte, and Cordelia were seeing Marvin on a daily. He was stressed, he was overworked, he was tired, but there was no time to stop now. Not with the election  _ seven days _ away. It was time to go harder on campaigning than ever, and bags steadily formed under Marvin’s eyes.

Trina felt like she would go insane if she heard, “I’m Marvin Gardens, and I approve this message,” one more time. Mendel was great, and she had no idea how she would have gotten through without him. It looked like it was hard for Jason, too. He looked tired constantly, as if he hadn’t slept in days, and would skate around any questions about it.

Trina had never once been successful in comforting Marvin. Even during their marriage, she had never been any good at it. She’d assumed he just didn’t want the comfort. Later, she’d learn he just didn’t want the comfort from  _ her _ . Marvin was closed off, deflecting everyone and everything. So, really, the five of them just sat around his house, providing support where possible. Marvin didn’t really seem to care. He just seemed tired and scared.

_ october 28. six days until election day. _

There’s a knock on the door at precisely 1:26pm. Marvin doesn’t notice, so Trina gets up to answer it. And there’s Whizzer. Whizzer Brown, back again, looking obnoxiously perfect, as usual. He gives what seems to be the best smile he can muster, and Trina does, too. It’s not much of one.

“Hi,” Whizzer says awkwardly. Trina lets him in. She sees Cordelia smile when Whizzer enters the apartment, and Whizzer appears to be regretting this more and more with every second.

Wordlessly, Trina leads Whizzer to the door separating Marvin and the rest of the world. She knocks, just to be polite. She opens the door before hearing a response. Marvin looks like he’s going to be annoyed, but he sees Whizzer, and he stops. They lock eyes, Trina backs away.

“Whizzer,” Marvin says simply. Whizzer smiles. Trina shuts the door. She looks at the assembled room, mostly seemingly happy about Whizzer’s reappearance. Trina isn’t sure how to feel about it. But Jason is smiling, so she isn’t completely resentful.

When they leave the room, later, both seem happier than how they started out. Whizzer looks relieved, Marvin a little less stressed, both smiling softly. Whizzer and Cordelia share a look, and Cordelia grins.

_ october 29. five days until election day. _

Whizzer has officially joined the  _ sitting around Marvin’s apartment _ club. He changes the entire dynamic a lot, in a good way, Trina thinks. She hates to admit it, but the group just  _ works _ with him. He keeps them talking, so that by the time Marvin’s ready to emerge from the next room, he catches them in the middle of large and completely random debates.

“Well, arguably, aliens could already be here,” Whizzer reasons, lying upside down on the couch for reasons Trina can’t possibly fathom. “But maybe they’re just, like,  _ really _ small. Like the size of atoms. So they’re already living their best lives here, and we’re looking in the wrong places.”

Jason swats at the air, as if grabbing an atom-sized alien. Whizzer laughs. “Wouldn’t we have discovered them by now?” Cordelia asks seriously.

“Probably. But maybe they’re sneaky. I don’t know,” Charlotte responds.

Marvin reenters then, glancing around at the room of smiling people. He looks at Whizzer upside down and grins. “Isn’t the blood going to rush to your head?”

“Oh, it already has, believe me,” Whizzer responds immediately. Most of them laugh. “You should take a break. Overworking yourself isn’t going to do shit.”

Mendel bites his lip, as if feeling he should’ve been the one to say it, but Trina puts an arm on his thigh. She smiles, putting her head on his shoulder. They’d told Marvin about their relationship not long ago at all. He’d been about as understanding as they could hope for.

Marvin smiles sadly. “I will later, if I can. Right now I have a little more to do. Just wanted to check in.” He stands behind Jason’s chair and puts his hands on his shoulders, giving them a little squeeze. Jason looks disassociated.

“Important question! What do you think about alien life?” Cordelia pipes up. Marvin stares for a moment before laughing.

Everyone waits, and he realizes the question isn’t ironic. “Oh! Well… I don’t know. Probably not anywhere near us or coming anytime soon. Honestly, I’d rather not deal with them if we can avoid it. But they’re probably out there, I guess?”

“America won’t be making any deals with the aliens, then?” Trina asks. Marvin glances over and smiles.

“No, thank you. We have enough going for us as is, I think,” he replies. Whizzer toasts his iced coffee nonchalantly in response. Marvin grins.

“What are you doing in there?” Jason asks curiously, gesturing towards the door of which Marvin just left. Marvin grins at the question, given how silent Jason’s been lately. Trina thinks Jason could have triggered the steadily happier Marvin that Whizzer created, too.

Marvin doesn’t sit, but leans against the door frame. “Getting ready for the rally tomorrow in Philadelphia. Takes more preparation than you might think.”

“You’re still doing rallies?” Cordelia asks. Marvin laughs.

“Yep. I mean, tomorrow’s the last one for me, but I have a whole team doing some across the country. Only a few days left to convince everyone to vote for me.”

Whizzer carefully puts his coffee back on the floor (which, considering he’s still upside down, is a challenge). “Who’s going to Philly with you?”   


“I don’t know. You guys can, if you want. Why, do you have business there?” he smirks. Whizzer smiles, finally flipping himself back over.

“No. But I’m not busy,” Whizzer responds evasively.

Cordelia grins widely. “Awe, look at them, trying to pretend they don’t care about each other!” Whizzer kicks her, grateful he’s right side up again.

“Sometimes I wonder what the moral excuses for murder are,” Whizzer replies vaguely. Cordelia laughs.

“I’ll pardon you if I win, babe,” Marvin says sweetly, retreating back into the room. “See you later.”

The door shuts, and Cordelia immediately turns to Whizzer. “ _ Babe _ ?” she asks. Whizzer grins, but doesn’t answer.

_ october 30. four days until election day. _

“We should have learned from the dinners,” Marvin says offhandedly as the car pulls up. “The seven of us cannot be trusted in an enclosed space for two hours.”

Whizzer grins, lounging on the long seat, his head in Marvin’s lap. “We’re not all going to pass up on a two-hour limo ride, Marv. This is the height of luxury,” he says simply, letting Marvin continue stroking his hair.

“I’m just glad this one doesn’t have alcohol,” Cordelia says absently. “Spending two hours with sober Whizzer is one thing. Two hours with drunk Whizzer is a whole new beast.”

Whizzer doesn’t even bother arguing the point as Marvin and Charlotte nod in agreement. They pull up and file out of the car. Trina lets go of Mendel’s hand for the first time since they got in the car, straightening out her dress as she stands. She ushers Jason out of the car, and he looks around the city.

“This is wildly underwhelming,” Whizzer says, glancing around and fixing his hair.

Marvin laughs. “Don’t insult the swing state, Whizzer.”

“This will be less underwhelming if everyone votes for Marvin,” Whizzer amends. Marvin laughs.

“I saw a lot of signs for you on our way in. That’s good,” Trina comments. Marvin looks over at her and smiles appreciatively.

“Yeah. If those goes well, we might just win them over,” Marvin replies. Whizzer smiles softly. Trina watches hesitantly. Marvin grabs Whizzer’s hand. Whizzer smiles even more. “Anything anyone want to do here before this rally?”

Jason looks down absently. Trina puts her hand on his shoulders in a way she thinks is comforting, but Jason tenses. She retracts her hands quickly, sighing. Mendel holds her hand again and rubs his thumb against her palm, and she breathes.

_ october 31. three days until election day. _

“You don’t want to go out, kiddo?” It’s Whizzer, kneeling in front of Jason’s chair. Jason doesn’t look at him, but shakes his head. “Why not?” Jason shrugs.

Trina has already played this game, and Mendel and Marvin, too. She had hoped Whizzer might have better luck than the rest of them - after all, Whizzer was perfect and could do no wrong. He bites his lip, considering.

“Is this about the election?” Whizzer asks carefully. It’s hard to even bring that up anymore without the room tensing. Lucky for Whizzer, the room was already tense.

“Isn’t everything?” Jason asks simply. Whizzer looks at him, what Trina believes to be genuine sympathy in his eyes.

Whizzer breathes, glad that he’s at least gotten somewhere. “I know.” Jason raises an eyebrow. “No, believe me, I  _ know _ . I’m going through the same thing. We all are,” he gestures to the group behind him. They all nod. “But we can take a day, we can take goddamn Halloween, and we can have fun.  _ Make _ this not about the election. Have fun for a night, get some candy. And let me go with you, since you’re a kid and I also want candy.” Jason laughs a little. “We’re not going to force you to go if you don’t want to. But I think you do, unless I’m very mistaken. So, we’re here to give it a try. If you want us to.”

Trina watches with interest as Jason nods slowly. Bested by her ex-husband’s new boyfriend, once again. Mendel rubs her arm, seemingly reading her mind. Marvin stands behind them, leaning against the doorway, listening.

Jason stands, and Trina forgets any regression toward Whizzer and smiles at her son, who gives what’s closer to a grimace back. Jason looks at Marvin, who’s brow is furrowed, who looks  _ sad _ . And Jason follows Marvin out of the door without saying a word, a telepathic message to the rest not to follow.

“How do you do that?” Trina can’t resist asking, alone with just Whizzer and Mendel. Whizzer seems to understand what she means immediately.

“Empathy,” he says simply. It answers virtually nothing, but Trina nods like it does.

Not long after, Marvin and Jason are back. Neither gives away too much. Marvin hugs Jason quickly, and Jason doesn’t embrace it, but he doesn’t fight back or tense. And that’s a start.

Marvin looks to Whizzer and Trina. “I’m staying here. I have a lot to work on.” Whizzer nods, knowing there’s probably a further reason, but choosing not to pry. He kisses Marvin’s cheek, and Marvin smiles softly, and then they leave.

_ november 1. two days until election day. _

It’s just Whizzer and Trina now. Charlotte and Cordelia were both respectively at work, Mendel with Jason, Marvin closed off from the world and preparing for the election in only two days’ time. It’s the first time they’ve been alone together since that first dinner, oh so long ago.

“I don’t think I ever properly apologized,” Trina says hesitantly. Whizzer looks up, surprised.

“For what?” He asks, confused.

Trina laughs, just for the purpose of relieving some tension. She considers. “I don’t know. Just feels like I owe you one.”

Whizzer’s brow furrows. “You don’t. I mean, it’d totally have been fair if you hated me. But you didn’t. And you helped me, instead. That’s not something to apologize for.”

“I did hate you,” Trina says. “Or, I tried  _ really _ hard to. For a long time. Jealous, I guess. Which isn’t really fair.”

“Sure it is,” Whizzer responds simply. “But you didn’t show it. Or, maybe you did, and I was too drunk to care. Who knows?” Trina laughs. “You don’t need to be sorry for everything, Trina. Let yourself feel shit!”

Trina shrugs. “I guess. But you didn’t do anything wrong.” It’s Whizzer’s turn to laugh.

“I’m not sure if you’ve been paying attention to my relationship with Marv, but I’ve certainly fucked plenty up.”

“Oh, I have been,” Trina says immediately. Whizzer laughs, a little sadly. “But not to me. You didn’t do anything to me.”

“Yeah, but I’m dating your ex-husband. Marvin’s fed up with Mendel for the same reasons. Irrational jealousy. Not even irrational, given, y’know…” he trails off, clearly not knowing how to put a twelve-year marriage into words. Trina understands.

There’s a bit of an awkward silence. Whizzer twiddles his thumbs, Trina considering. “Well, I never did actually get around to hating you. Not after I’d met you. Completely un-hateable. I’m glad I don’t hate you now, though.”

Whizzer laughs. “Me, too.” And that’s what closure feels like, isn’t it?

Trina doesn’t hate Whizzer. She also doesn’t hate Marvin. And that’s good. She thinks she might be coming to love them, too, in a way she’s not quite so familiar with yet. But she’s glad for it. And that’s something.

_ november 2. one day until election day. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello
> 
> it's a long chapter today!! congrats!! there are only two more chapters to post,,,, AAA next is on halloween and last is on election day. scary.
> 
> rly all i can say today is. please vote. please please please for the love of god vote and VOTE BLUE. she just got appointed to the supreme court for life. this is terrifying. vote for biden/harris, early if you can, and vote blue for all the smaller elections, too. vote for all of us. please. and remember, black lives matter and that fight is ongoing. continue using your voice.
> 
> that's all!! i can't wait for you guys to see the end of this fic, and i really really appreciate all the support it's gotten. if you want to leave kudos or a comment (or both ??) my life will be indebted to you and i love you a lot!! let me know your thoughts!! feel free to come talk to me @terrorandbliss on twitter because i want you to be my friend!! pls!! bye guys, ily, see you on halloween :)


	24. help us all

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason and Marvin have a lot to talk about. To Jason's surprise, they don't ignore that anymore.

_ november 2. one day until election day. _

Jason is waiting by the door. He understands now, from a year’s worth of experience, that Whizzer would never be ready on time (he would declare that it’s fine to be fashionably late, to which Marvin would retort that you can’t be fashionably late as the president), and he’s very used to waiting by the door. That’s exactly what he’s doing now, as Marvin keeps up a steady knock on the door.

At one point, Marvin gives up. He walks away from Whizzer’s door to stand with Jason, who doesn’t look at him. Jason looks pointedly at the floor.

“How are you feeling?” Marvin tries to ask. Jason just shrugs. Marvin sighs, recognizing the dismissal. “Okay.”

They stand in awkward silence for a little. Jason thinks, biting the inside of his lip absently. “Do you think you’re going to win?” he asks suddenly.

Marvin looks back down at him. Jason looks up. “I don’t know,” he says honestly. “I think there’s a chance.”

Jason nods, letting his gaze drift again. “If you do, what’s going to happen with me?” He doesn’t elaborate. Marvin doesn’t ask him to.

“Well, I know your mom wants to stay here,” Marvin says slowly. “I’ll be in D.C. a lot, but I’ll still be able to make it down here sometimes. And you can come up there sometimes, too.”

Jason nods again, not really knowing how to reply. He wishes that someone would have asked him first. And, feeling like there’s already going back, says this to his father.  “Why didn’t you ask me first?”

Jason glances back up again, looking his dad full in the face. Marvin frowns. “Well, we don’t even know if it’ll happen yet. If I don’t win, we won’t be doing any of this.”

“Yeah. But it might happen. It could. And this affects me, too. I just… want to know this stuff. I want to  _ know _ when you’re going to run for president. I want to  _ know _ that you’re divorcing my mom. I want to  _ know _ when you get a boyfriend, I want to  _ know _ when you’re going public, and at the very least, I want to  _ know _ when you break up. I want to know literally anything. I want to be told the stuff that’s going to affect me for once.”

Marvin just stares, looking lost, a little concerned. Whizzer comes in the room, draping himself against the wall. “How do I look?” he asks, noticing the tension when no one responds. “Should I come back?”

As Jason sees it, his father has two options: he can say no and they can leave, and then Marvin will be on time. Or he can say yes, and have a conversation with his son. Jason just looks.

Marvin considers for seconds before saying quickly, “Yeah. Can we just have one minute?”

Whizzer looks as taken aback as Jason feels, but impressed, too. “Sure,” he says, nodding, backing up the stairs again. Jason guesses he’ll eavesdrop, but hears the bedroom door shut, so maybe not. Everyone’s full of surprises today.

“I’m sorry,” Marvin says. Jason looks his dad in the face. He actually looks sorry, without the vague offhand look that he associates with a politician’s white lie. It looks genuine. “Can we start now?” Jason nods, not sure of what to expect. “Okay.

“I think I’m going to win. It feels like I’m going to win, and I wasn’t expecting it to, but it does. That being said, I’m probably just opening myself up for disappointment, but I can’t shake it. If I do win, I’m going to D.C., and I’ll be in the White House a lot, but I’m still going to  _ live _ here. I’ll come by all the time,  _ every _ time I can. I want Whizzer to come to D.C. with me, but I have no idea if he does. Actually; I’m in love with Whizzer, although I have no intention of telling him that given what happened last time - we broke up over it - but I do. I’m vaguely terrified because I don’t know what tomorrow will look like, but I’m glad the campaigning will be over, and I’m glad we’ll have an answer one way or another. I’m going to let you stay up super late tomorrow so that you’ll be one of the first people to know who the projected winner is. And I love you. A hell of a lot.”

Jason stares at his father. That’s a vulnerability that their relationship never reached - in fact, Jason doubts that his dad  _ ever _ opened up like that. So he smiles weakly and he just hugs Marvin, and Marvin hugs him back.

“Thank you,” he says quietly into Marvin’s shirt. “I think you’re going to win, too, Dad.” Marvin ruffles his hair clumsily before letting him go. He nods quickly, biting the inside of his lip in the same way that Jason does when he’s holding back tears. He nods again, just to have something to do.

“Whizzer!” Marvin calls up the stairs, and Jason laughs, allowing things to return to normal.

Whizzer hurries back down the stairs, leaning against the wall just as he did the first time. “How do I look?” he asks again.

“Very funny, Whizz,” Marvin says at Whizzer’s complete do-over. Whizzer cocks an eyebrow as Marvin realizes he’s expecting a real answer. “Absolutely fabulous. Now come on,” he says, and Jason smiles. Whizzer narrows his eyes at Marvin before turning to Jason and mouthing a quick  _ you okay _ ?, to which Jason smiles and gives a thumbs up. Whizzer nods and watches as Marvin ushers Jason out before them. He turns and watches Whizzer communicate a similar message to Marvin, who grabs his hand and squeezes it in return.

The three file in the car, Marvin rubbing circles into Whizzer’s hand nervously. Whizzer puts his head on Marvin’s shoulder eventually, Marvin and Jason having occasional nonverbal interactions.

Jason looks out the window, watching New York City pass by. And, for as far as Jason’s memory serves, the first time during the campaign, Jason smiles a full, genuine smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sobs like a badass
> 
> hiya it's sophie im back again!! you can take this as the resolution to marvin & jason's relationship within this fic!! and i am just very proud of them!! that's all!!
> 
> 3 days. 3 mf days. you have THREE MORE DAYS to VOTE. vote now if you can, or on November 3rd if you have to. vote vote vote vote VOTE. vote blue. please. black lives matter - we lost walter wallace jr the other day, and he needs justice. breonna still needs justice. and so so so many more. blm.
> 
> happy Halloween!! i love you guys, stay safe!! 3 days until the end of this fic ... sob OK pls leave comments and kudos if you enjoyed and lmk your thoughts!! i love hearing from you guys :) you can find me @terrorandbliss on twitter, feel free to reach out and become my friend there!! love y'all, see you nov 3


	25. what time will bring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the day of the election. Whizzer comes to a realization of his own. And also - the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BEFORE WE START!!
> 
> if you are 18+ in america, you are not allowed to read this chapter if you haven't voted yet !! go to the polls !! vote blue !! you can read this while you wait to vote if there's a line !! go vote !!
> 
> now onward with the *sob* final chapter (also we are going to pretend the title is a whizzer line please that's what worked best)

_ november 3. election day. _

“Whizzer! Update us,” Cordelia says, jumping up. “Who’s leading now?”

“Okay, so, I don’t know,” Whizzer replies. The room groans. “ _ But _ that’s because I’m reading an article on whether or not I’m going to be the First Lady.”

Cordelia laughs. “Well, are you?”

“Maybe. I think it’s mostly up to Marvin, since he’s not married. I just want the FLOTUS Twitter, honestly,” says Whizzer. 

Trina smirks. “I don’t actually think we should trust Whizzer with that.” Cordelia nods, pointing at her, and Whizzer glares.

“Dad’s leading, but not by a lot,” Jason pipes up, having searched it up with his mother’s phone. “He’s, like, a couple thousand ahead.”

“A couple thousand and six, once we go vote,” Mendel reasons. Marvin gives a half-smile, seemingly the best he can manage. Whizzer puts a hand on his thigh in a way he hopes is soothing enough.

“And it’s early,” Trina points out. “You have all day to win by a landslide.”

Marvin looks up at her. “I have all day to win the popular vote by a landslide. Then, we have to deal with the electoral college.”

In unison, the entire group says with equal enthusiasm, “Fuck the electoral college.” For once, they ignore Jason’s swearing - as they will put it later,  _ special circumstances _ .

Marvin laughs weakly. “Fuck the electoral college,” he echoes.

“You should get rid of it, if you get elected,” Jason says. Admittedly, Whizzer knows Jason doesn’t know much about it himself.

“It’s in the Constitution, so I probably wouldn’t get far with that,” Marvin responds. “But we can dream!”

Whizzer hums, putting his head on Marvin’s shoulder. Marvin smiles softly, putting his hand over Whizzer’s, which is still resting on his thigh. Jason mimes being sick, to which Cordelia nods enthusiastically.

“Are we ready to vote yet, or-?” Charlotte asks into the relatively dread-filled silence.

“Hell yeah, we are!” Whizzer says, popping up from Marvin’s shoulder. Marvin laughs, forgetting to be scared for just a minute. Whizzer grabs a Monopoly piece on the way out. Just for luck.

And so, the seven file out. Back in a fancy car - different this time - heading to the polls. Marvin is clearly trying to look less stressed than he feels, and it’s… half-working. Whizzer has a lot to think about in a several minute drive.

The first is that Whizzer and Marvin have yet to have a serious discussion about what’s happening after this election. If he wins, then technically they have until inauguration to figure it out, but Whizzer considers it now. What does he have in New York? Cordelia, who he hadn’t been separated from in years, with Charlotte. Aside from that, maybe not much. And in D.C.? He’d have Marvin. Which felt different.

And maybe that leads him into a word he prefers to keep out of his mind - love. Because he loves Marvin. And that’s why a part of him wants to follow Marvin to D.C.. Because Whizzer finally did it, the one thing he said he wouldn’t, Whizzer fell in love. And that maybe that was worth following. (And living in the White House was a plus. A big plus.)

Whizzer knows Marvin has every intention of frequent New York visits, if he does win. And Whizzer thinks that could work. He thinks that could be good for him, too. And it’s then that he decides mentally to go to D.C. with Marvin.

He doesn’t say this, yet, not in the car with everyone. But he grabs Marvin’s hand and smiles, and Marvin relaxes a little. And then they’re voting.

Whizzer leaves his booth soon after, where Marvin and Jason are waiting for him. He grins.

“Who’d you vote for?” Marvin asks, raising an eyebrow. Whizzer laughs.

“Well,” he begins cockily. “I was going to vote for you, but spur of the moment decisions happen, and-”

Marvin shakes his head. “Okay,” he says, moving toward him.

“I voted for you,” Whizzer says honestly.

Marvin smiles. “I know.”

“And I think you’re going to win,” Whizzer continues.

Marvin takes another step towards Whizzer. “I know that, too.”

“And I want to go to Washington, D.C. with you.” Whizzer takes the step this time.

“I hoped you would,” is Marvin’s reply.

“I also want to be your first lady.”

Marvin laughs, and Whizzer grins. “We’ll see what we can do.”

They’re very close now, both seeming to have forgotten that they’re in public.

“And I love you,” Whizzer says, finally. He smiles softly at the admission, and so does Marvin.

“I love you, too.” Marvin doesn’t know if the rest of them can hear him. He guesses they can, based on Cordelia’s grin, having left her booth not long after Whizzer.

“I don’t even care if you win,” Whizzer says. “I love you, and I’m sorry, and I want to be with you. President or not. All that bullshit.”

They’re close enough that Whizzer can feel Marvin’s breath. “Well, admittedly, I do care about winning, but I’m sorry, too, and I also want to be with you.”

“Good,” says Whizzer simply, barely considering as he leans over and kisses him.

And then he pulls Marvin into him and hugs him, and Marvin laughs and returns it. And then Jason joins in, and then Trina, then Cordelia, Mendel, and Charlotte. And then it’s a bundle of seven, pretending today is a normal day, and not having to pretend that they’re happy anymore. Because they are. And they can handle whatever comes next.

A family, defined, is traditionally a basic social unit, consisting of parents and their children, considered as a group, whether dwelling together or not. But there’s more than that. There are the no-longer-next-door lesbians, thrown in from their friend’s attachment. There’s the ex-wife, here because she forgot how not to care, and stayed because she allowed herself to want to. There’s the physiatrist, now a boyfriend and  _ technically _ stepfather, too. There’s the son, who went from resentment to resolution, who  _ let _ the relationship be imperfect. There’s the boyfriend, who spent a year denying any attraction until today, with a Monopoly piece tucked away in his pocket, but who has never been more happy to be  _ here _ . And there’s the presidential candidate, learning how to love, learning how to balance everything, and learning to  _ care _ . And that’s a family, too. As weird and fucked up as it may be, a family is a group of seven people hugging in a polling place.

And they don’t let go for a very long time.

  
  


_ the end. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> breathes
> 
> ok this is going to be a long and sappy note so bear with me okay
> 
> first of all - some shoutouts ! thank you to magnus who may or may not see this but was my proof-reader who responded with enough enthusiasm to match the number of typos, to jo ( joisattempting here on ao3, she writes some awesome fics also so READ THEM !! ) because i love her a lot and truly wouldn't have written this without her, to mars who is very behind reading this but let me rant abt this entire thing on a loooooong walk up and down the beach, to my entire insta groupchat whose name is constantly changing but they know who they are, to everyone who dmed me on twitter about reading this fic because they all made me very very emotional, and to everyone who left some comments or kudos here on ao3. they mean a lot. love u guys. also shoutout to monopoly for the monopoly jokes. i know they're not reading this but i appreciate it <3
> 
> i knew i wanted to end this on a more ambiguous note? bc at the end of the day to this family it doesn’t matter if marv wins or not, bc they love each other and bonded over this in a way that they wouldnt rly be able to otherwise if that makes sense ? so yeah. guess we’ll never know he wins. sorry hehe
> 
> i started this fic (fondly known as politicsettos) almost exactly four months ago and i knew that i liked it more than most of my fic ideas, but i did not know it would remain something that felt like a good idea, nor did i piece together that there was an election and that this piece would be Very Timely. but now we know !! it feels like yesterday when i was talking abt how whizzer often frequented clubs :,( but i am v proud of this fic and where it's gone in these past four months. ur support has been so incredible and unexpected and aaaaa i'm very grateful for all of it
> 
> ok ok i'll stop talking now but. truly i appreciate you guys so much and i am going to miss writing this so so much, and i am going to miss seeing all of ur wonderful comments all the time,, WOO ok i love u guys a lot. as always, comments and kudos mean the world, and if you want to be my friend talk to me on twitter @terrorandbliss !! thanks guys. see u whenever i get motivation again
> 
> the only note it feels suitable to leave this fic on is : VOTE. even if you're seeing this beyond nov 3, make sure you're registered and voting in local elections, too. all of our futures depend on it. VOTE for every minority you've ever met - for every person of color, every lgbt+ person, every disabled person, every woman, and more.. vote for all of us. love u guys. see u someday <3


End file.
